


hearts & spades

by wooyunhwa



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:27:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26950621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wooyunhwa/pseuds/wooyunhwa
Summary: mafia!seonghwa x fem!readergenre: smut that gets really angsty at the end you've been warnedWhen a mysteriously powerful man kicks your abusive boyfriend out of the bar, he agrees to take you in for the night. But he’s hiding something… and you’re determined to find out what.
Relationships: Park Seonghwa/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44





	1. flirting with danger

  
Anger burned in your chest as your boyfriend was starting to act like a belligerent fool, yet again. You’d gone with him to meet a couple of his friends at a swanky downtown bar, but the more he drank, the more he embarrassed you. You caught him looking at the waitress’ ass more than once, not that you had the power to say anything about it. You knew what would happen if you did. He’d yell, deny it, and try to flip things around so you were the one at fault. He’d always find a way to twist your words and make it so that you were the one apologizing. 

You took a sip of your drink, your lips tight as you fought back the urge to say something, because you knew it wasn’t worth it. It never was. You were so ashamed to be here with him that you fantasized about sinking into the floor, away from all the people throwing disgusted looks in your direction as his comments grew louder and more crass the more shots he threw back. It was a much nicer bar than the ones you’d usually visit, which only added to the feeling of standing out. There were a lot of people dressed in formalwear, and while you had worn a nice dress and spent time on your makeup, you felt trashy by coming with your idiot boyfriend. 

He ordered another drink, probably his eighth or so that night. He beckoned the bartender, called her “sweetheart” and blatantly checked her out as he ordered, and your cheeks burned with a mix of shame and embarrassment. You kept drinking to feel numb instead of upset, but all that did was make you feel sick to your stomach. Not from the alcohol, necessarily, just from the fact that you had to pound back drinks just to be in the same room as your own boyfriend. 

“Can you just stop,” you said feebly, your voice cracking as you finally spoke up. He turned, meeting your eyes with that stupid, distant look he got on his face when he drank. 

“What was that?” he said challengingly, like he was mocking you. You looked down, trying to avoid eye contact. You regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth. 

“I-I said…” You tried to repeat yourself, but you felt like you were shrinking under the weight of his gaze, and the confidence the liquor gave you dried up immediately. Your lip started to quiver, and your cheeks started to heat up at the mortifying thought of crying at the bar. You kept your gaze glued on the drink in front of you. 

“No, say it. Tell me exactly what I did wrong,” he said, raising his voice. A couple people turned to look in your direction.

“Don’t make a scene, I just-” 

“‘ _Don’t make a scene?’_ When you’re the one who wants to start a fight with me?” he yelled, and tears started to fall down your cheeks. You couldn’t help it, but now you were crying in the bar, and your night couldn’t get much worse. 

“Please, can we just go home?” you begged, your voice small and lacking any punch whatsoever. The tears were really falling now, and you really just wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. 

“Go home?” he laughed in your face. “I’m having a good time out here, you’re the one who ruined it out of nowhere. You can go the fuck home if you want, I don’t care.” 

A lot of people were looking now. You started openly bawling, no longer caring about keeping up your appearance. You’d never cried in public before, but he crossed a line by treating you like garbage in front of all these people, and you just couldn’t take it anymore. He rolled his eyes, giving you a dismissive gesture with his hand. 

“Oh, now you’re gonna cry? I don’t give you enough attention, is that it? You can’t handle not being the center of attention?” he yelled. 

“Hey, don’t talk to her like that!” Someone stepped up and put a hand on his shoulder, and your boyfriend shook it off angrily. 

“Get your fucking hands off me,” he said, getting aggressive way too quickly. 

“Come on, man. You’re gonna get yourself kicked out,” the guy said, clearly not trying to escalate things. 

“Huh? Kick me out? Because this bitch can’t keep her damn mouth shut? Try it. See what happens if you put your fucking hands on me again,” he spat, puffing himself to look larger, obviously rearing for a fight. 

“Is there a problem?” a new voice entered. You turned to see him, and your jaw nearly fell off of your face. He was a young man, probably around your same age, and he looked like some kind of statue that had come to life. You blinked, stunned, as he approached your boyfriend. His body language was calm, unlike your boyfriend’s, who looked like a belligerent dumbass. 

“You tell me,” your boyfriend said, crowding the handsome man’s space. 

“I don’t tolerate pretty ladies crying in my bar,” he said, shooting you a small smile before turning back to your boyfriend with a stern expression. “I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“ _Your_ bar? I don’t tolerate cocky pretty boys like you telling me what to do.” He gave the handsome man a warning shove, and you cringed, feeling like this night just couldn’t get any worse. The handsome man looked down at his chest where he’d been shoved, then back up, his expression turning cold. 

“I’ll ask you one more time to leave. I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t cause any trouble,” he said carefully. 

Your boyfriend scoffed, then gave another, harder shove. “You’re the one causing the trouble here, man,” he sneered, really getting up in his space now. 

“Leave. Now.” The way the man said it sent chills down your spine, like he was not to be fucked with. Your stomach was a knot of anxiety as the tension in the air spiked, and you wanted to close your eyes and pretend you didn’t exist anymore. 

As if in slow motion, your boyfriend threw a sloppy hook, which the handsome man evaded with ease. Frustrated, your boyfriend tried again, apparently on a mission to break the man’s nose tonight. The handsome man ducked, then darted forward, delivering a brutal punch right to your boyfriend’s jaw, which sent him careening to the floor. 

Your boyfriend clutched at his jaw, groaning as he struggled to get up. The handsome man examined his hand, stretching his fingers a few times, then turned to you with a sympathetic smile. “Are you okay?” he asked. 

You nodded your head, looking down at the pile of trash that was supposed to be your boyfriend. You felt angry at him beyond words for causing such a scene, and a fresh round of tears spilled down your face. Your shoulders shook as you sobbed, wishing that this whole night had never happened. The man brought a hand to your shoulder, tenderly guiding you out of your seat and gesturing for you to follow him. 

“Come on, let’s go get some air,” he said. The handsome man turned to look over his shoulder, giving an ambiguous nod to someone in the room. 

You hesitated for a moment. Besides being taught not to let strange men lead you to a secondary location, your trust in the intentions of men had been tainted by your piece-of-shit boyfriend. Despite all that, you nodded, in no position to turn him down. He obviously held some sort of power here, but you couldn’t be sure exactly what his position was. Maybe he was just a really, _really_ well dressed security guard. The place was fancy, after all. 

You resented your idiot boyfriend for making a scene like that, and especially for dragging you down with him, but god, did you love watching him get punched like that. You would have savored the moment more if not for your involvement in the situation, and your tears blurring your vision. 

Your gaze dropped to the ground shamefully as you followed the man outside quietly, doing your best to make yourself as small as possible, avoiding eye contact with the gawking bargoers. Your cheeks were stained red, hot from embarrassment, and your throat felt tight. 

“My name is Seonghwa, by the way. I’d say ‘nice to meet you,’ but these conditions are a little…” he laughed, trying to lighten the mood a bit. 

“I’m Y/N,” you croaked, voice betraying you. “I’m so sorry about all this.” You felt the need to apologize on your boyfriend’s behalf. Well, at least you were used to that part. 

He led you out a door to the side of the bar, guiding you through the back hallways like he knew exactly where he was going, and at one point you could swear one of the doors was marked “Employees Only”. Your security guard theory seemed more and more likely by the second.

He swung open one final door to the outside, and you were immediately hit with the sting of the brisk outside air against the dry, tear-stained skin on your face. The moment you stopped thinking about stopping your tears was the moment they started to pour out again, suddenly overwhelmed again by the turn of events. Here you were, face-to-face in some sketchy back-alley of a bar with the man who’d just decked your boyfriend. 

“Do you have somewhere safe you can go?” the man asked, the calm tone of his voice immediately soothing you from the otherwise unsettling situation. 

You brought a hand up to wipe the tears from your eyes. “N-no,” you started, through shaky breaths. “No, I don’t have anywhere… my boyfriend… you saw him, he’s- he’s so drunk… and when he’s drunk, he gets angry- I’m scared of what he’ll do if-” You could barely choke out a coherent sentence, words trailing off into another round of tears as your mind raced with anxiety.

You began to slip into panic mode, finally realizing the full breadth of the situation. You didn’t have anywhere to go except home, and you feared what your boyfriend might do if you came back. Effectively, you were homeless, unless you wanted to take your chances on if your boyfriend was mad enough at you to finally hit you. And you already knew those chances: they weren’t good. 

The man sighed, running a hand through his hair in contemplation. “Look, if you need somewhere safe to stay tonight…” he pressed his lips together in thought, clearly weighing his words wisely. “You can stay at my place.”

Your eyes widened at his proposal. You didn’t even know him, but what other option did you have at this point? As far as trustworthiness went, punching your boyfriend out certainly earned him some points.

And though this didn’t really matter right now, you couldn’t help but think about how attractive he was. Removed from the situation now, you were able to take in his beauty from up close. His features were sharp and defined, and he more closely resembled a CGI rendering of a person than an actual person. Actually, now that you thought about it, he may have been the most picturesque man you'd seen in your life. His jet black hair contrasted against his red velvet suit jacket. He was otherwise adorned in all black, which suited him perfectly, elongating his already well-proportioned frame. There was no other way to describe him but _expensive_. Well, and maybe gorgeous. 

His features were dark, intimidating, and yet he'd shown you nothing but concern and kindness and since you met. You decided to trust him for the time being, if not for his display of kindness, but also for the fact that you wanted the chance to stare at him a bit more. 

“I really don’t want to impose…” you said, eyes once again trained on the ground shamefully. You already felt like such a burden for causing such trouble in the first place. 

“One night,” he clarified. “You can stay for _one_ night. That should be enough time for you to make arrangements to stay with someone. Family, friends?”

Friends. Right. That thing you didn’t have. Well, not anymore. For the past year, your boyfriend had kept you completely isolated from the outside world in order to keep a watchful and controlling eye on you at all times. And family, well… that you didn’t even want to get into. Despite this, you agreed. That sounded like a tomorrow-you problem, and tonight-you just wanted to collapse into a bed and forget for a second how fucked you were. 

“Alright, follow me,” he said, heading back in through the door you had come from. He left you in the hallway briefly, and you took the moment alone to collect yourself from the crying mess you were just a minute ago. When he got back, you followed him as he weaved his way through the back corridors of the building. 

He took you to a small, antiquated elevator, and you doubted its ability to move even one human, let alone two. You squeezed into the tight box with him, bodies nearly flush with each other. You were so close you could almost taste the fresh alcohol on his breath. 

He pressed the top button, and the elevator creaked up slowly.

_Did he live above the bar?_ you wondered. _A bit odd for a security guard._

You felt a little nervous as you entered the apartment after him, but the feeling was quickly replaced by one of awe and wonder. The apartment itself had a similar feel to the bar, with decadent furnishings and ornate ceiling fixtures, giving off old-Hollywood glam from every corner. It was vintage enough to still feel humble, but reeked of upper-class in a way that felt odd for a mere employee. Numerous paintings adorned the walls, depicting everything from beautiful women to far-off landscapes to wacky abstract art. It felt as though he’d led you into an old French art gallery instead of an apartment, and you felt hesitant to touch anything for fear of being scolded. 

He gestured for you to sit on the couch, and you obeyed, slipping off your shoes as you followed him in. You sat on it carefully, like it was a piece of art, and he joined you after a moment, returning with a bottle of something very expensive and a glass for each of you. He gracefully filled up your flute, handing it over with his long, perfect fingers. You’d never felt like such a commoner in your whole life, but you took it gratefully, as you still very much needed a drink. Its cool bubbles sparkled against your tongue, and you took a deep breath. 

You spilled your heart out to him, explaining everything about your situation, things you hadn't been able to tell anyone before. You told him about your controlling boyfriend, your isolation, and most of all, how scared you were. He offered you more drinks as you cried — expensive champagne from his own personal mini bar. He poured it out like it was nothing to him, but that bottle must have cost him a fortune. How rich was this guy anyway? You shouldn't have been drinking more, you knew that, but you accepted happily, opting to drown your feelings rather than face them. 

He must have been deep into his 5th glass, just that you’d seen at least, and yet he carried himself extremely well. If you hadn’t have seen him drinking, you probably wouldn’t have even guessed he was drunk. _Makes sense for a guy who works at a bar,_ you thought. 

That reminded you. You still didn’t know anything about him, or what he did at the bar, and yet at this point, he must have known practically everything about you.

“So, do you work here? At the bar, I mean. Like a security guard?” you asked, shifting the conversation to him. He had the most mysterious aura about him, and had thus far been pretty vague about himself. You wanted to see if you could crack him. 

He leaned back against the couch, legs crossed. How could anyone look so good just sitting? He pursed his lips slightly in thought. His lips twitched up into a slight smile. “Sure, yeah. You could say that.”

You looked around at his huge suite. Something didn’t add up. “Wow, they must really be paying security guards a lot these days,” you joked with a light laugh, but you weren’t really joking.

He forced a chuckle before hoisting himself up from his position on the couch and made his way to the mini bar just behind him. “Another drink?”

“No, no, I shouldn’t,” you said. And it was true, you really shouldn’t have. You were really starting to feel the effects of the alcohol wash through you, and you weren’t exactly known for holding your liquor well. 

He chose the spot on the couch next to you this time as he sat, and placed a warm hand on your back, rubbing gentle circles. The pressure of his touch felt amazing, sending tingles down your spine. You were tired from your emotional night, but the comfort he offered felt incredible, and you still couldn’t get over just how gorgeous he was. He slipped out of his suit jacket, and you were able to catch a glimpse of the definition of his body underneath. 

His black shirt was tailored flawlessly to his every measurement, the seams of his sleeves perfectly hugging the curve of his wide shoulders. There’s no way it wasn’t custom, and you wondered again how the hell a security guard lived so decadently. Your eyes involuntarily flickered down to his chest, noticing he had a few too many buttons undone, teasing his collarbone just enough. You didn’t notice you were leaning in until he brought a hand to your cheek, holding you delicately as his face grew closer.

Your lips were on his before you had a chance to tell yourself to stop. He reciprocated fervidly, pushing his lips back against yours with drunken desire. His touch seemed to melt all your problems away. What better to drown your sorrows with than fancy champagne and sex with the most beautiful man you’d ever had the pleasure of seeing?

The way he kissed you tipped you off immediately to how often he must have done this. This wasn’t your first hook up, and you’d experienced enough to know most men weren’t exactly pros when it came to kissing. Despite the drinks he’d been knocking back all night, there was nothing sloppy about the way his lips moved against yours. Between the fancy penthouse apartment, the prosperous aura, and his devilishly good looks, there was no way he wasn’t bringing girls here regularly. Not that it mattered. If that was the case, you were surely in for a good time. 

Your kisses grew clumsier and more lustful, and you fumbled drunkenly at the rest of the buttons on his shirt until it fell open to reveal his torso, beautiful and sculpted. You ran your hands along his stomach, marveling at his solid abs, and finally down to his waistband to remove his belt. He returned the favor by pulling your dress over your head and unhooking your bra, throwing it to the side with disregard. 

He paused for a moment, furrowing his brows. “You’ve had a lot to drink,” he said, sighing softly. “Are you sure you want to do this?” 

You nodded furiously. You were more sure than you’ve been of anything in your life. Or, at least, anything you could remember right now. You had a one track mind to be completely taken by this man. “I’m sure, I’m sure. Please, just fuck me. I need this right now.”

“Can’t argue with that…” he muttered under his breath. 

He scooped you up easily, and you wrapped your legs around his back to stabilize yourself as he carried you through the apartment. He had towered over you when standing next to you earlier, and was able to lift you effortlessly now. He was strong, that was for sure, but you knew that much from the abs you were feeling up just minutes before. 

He set you down gently against the pillows of his huge bed, giving you an opportunity to remove the rest of your clothes. The bed was lavishly adorned in a showy display of fancy pillows and blankets, which matched perfectly with the grandiose nature of everything else in his apartment. You watched in awe as he stripped the rest of his clothes as well. His body matched the rest of him — almost entirely unreal. 

Maybe this was all just a dream you were having. A drunken, horny sex dream. But either way, you never wanted it to end. He draped himself over you, his cock brushing over your thigh as he settled between your legs. Inspiration hit, and you pushed him off, rolling on top of him as he landed on his back. 

Seonghwa’s expression turned puzzled at the sudden rejection—or so he thought. You smirked at him as you climbed on top, a surge of empowerment taking over you. His eyes darkened as he realized what was happening, and he let his hands come up to squeeze your ass as you made yourself comfy. 

You took his dick in your hand, positioning it between your legs, then slowly sank onto it. He bit his lip, groaning as you sat down all the way. He squeezed your ass harder, digging his nails in a bit, and you felt powerful as you watched him come undone. You moaned, putting on a show for him. It was the least you could do to repay his kindness, after all. 

You rocked forward onto your knees, slowly dragging your hips up and down onto his cock. You let your hands trail over his chest and down his abs, feeling every dip and rise of the muscles beneath his skin. He still didn’t feel real, even as you ran your fingers along his abs and felt his cock inside of you. 

You began to lift yourself up, sliding almost all the way off of his cock until just the tip was inside, and slammed your ass back down, repeating this motion until he was breathing hard and struggling to keep from fucking up into you. You rode him relentlessly, full of fresh drunken confidence, and you could see his eyes were glued to where his dick was disappearing inside of you. 

There was something so undeniably satisfying about watching a man who seemed to hold so much power in his daily life concede under your touch. He had been so calm and collected before, and you imagined he wasn’t used to giving up control so easily. Even the way he walked screamed power and authority. As you watched his eyes roll back, his lips parted slightly, you felt intoxicating power swell inside you. This wasn’t like you - you wouldn’t say you were particularly submissive, but you weren’t dominant by any means either. You could tell he wasn’t used to girls taking the initiative—and you wanted to milk it.

“Look at me,” you purred, tipping his chin up gently with your fingers. He forced his gaze upwards, tearing them away from where your bodies connected, and looked at you with half-lidded eyes. 

Seonghwa swiped his tongue involuntarily over his bottom lip in pleasure, his tongue lingering in the corner of his mouth as his pleasured breaths grew more shallow. You couldn’t help but notice how long it was. God, the things his tongue could do to you… 

Another round of inspiration hit. You smirked, raising your hips enough to let his dick slide out with a wet sound. You crawled forward, eating up the look of confusion on his face, giving him a quick sloppy kiss before breaking away and scooting your hips right up to his chin. A look of realization dawned on his face, a smile stretching across his lips as he grabbed you by the ass and pulled you in closer. You planted yourself right on his face, and he wasted no time putting that long tongue of his to good use. 

This man seemed to be blessed in every way imaginable, and you moaned as he skillfully lapped at your pussy, flicking your clit with his tongue, his hot breath bathing your legs as you pressed harder against his face. You grabbed at the roots of his hair with your hands, anchoring yourself as you rocked your hips back and forth. 

“Fuck, Seonghwa,” you sighed dreamily, and he moaned against you in response. He dragged one of his hands down your ass, bringing it underneath you to slide two fingers inside. You were already close, but he pushed you over the edge as soon as he started fucking you with his fingers. You cried out as you came, riding his face a little too aggressively, fingers yanking on his hair to stay grounded in reality. 

He pulled back, looking at you hungrily as he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. You hadn’t even caught your breath yet before he was pushing you down to his crotch. You were exhausted, but you wanted to please this man in any way you could. You wrapped your hand around his cock, giving the head of it a little kitten-lick as you looked up at him. 

You gave it a kiss, enjoying the groan he let out as you teased him. You opened your lips wide and sank down until the head hit the back of your throat. You fought back a gag, and you felt his hips buck up just a little as your mouth fully encompassed his cock, like he couldn’t control it. You loved seeing him lose control, and you were determined to see him come apart. 

You hollowed your cheeks and sucked, twisting your fist around the base of his cock to jerk him off at the same time. He brushed his hands through your hair, bringing it together into a ponytail at the back of your head, which he then used to push and pull you faster as he grew close to his limit. The sounds he made were music to your ears as he reached his tipping point, and he spilled into your mouth with the most beautiful moan you had ever heard. You looked up at him, maintaining eye contact as you swallowed it all. It was the least you could do. 

You were substantially tired at that point, so it didn’t take long for you to knock out after crawling up into bed with him. He was still breathing hard, lying drained against the perfect white linens. You heard rustling as he fluffed up a blanket and draped it over your naked body, and you sighed as you felt its soft warmth envelope you. He rustled around in the nightstand for something, and there was a soft clicking sound before the dim lights in the room shut off entirely. Remote controlled lights? Of course. You smiled to yourself in amusement as you drifted off into sleep. 

****************************

You woke up in the lavish bed to the noise of pots rustling, the harsh light coming in through the penthouse windows stinging your eyes. As your eyes adjusted, you saw Seonghwa standing in the kitchen. He looked so different from the put-together appearance he had yesterday, now dressed in his underwear and a casual T-shirt. Something about it looked… wrong. Not that you were expecting him to sleep in a suit or anything, but then again… maybe.

“Good morning,” he said flatly. 

You rubbed your eyes and sat up in the bed, realizing you were still naked from last night. All you had was the uncomfortably fancy dress you couldn’t even bear the idea of having to put back on. “Good morning,” you said tentatively. Despite your intimate encounter just hours ago, you couldn’t help but be intimidated by his presence now. “Do you maybe… have some clothes I could borrow?” 

He nodded to a dresser to the side of the bed. “Grab anything you want out of there,” he said, before returning to his business in the kitchen. He seemed colder today, completely opposite to the comforting warmth he had yesterday when he took pity on you. Did he want you gone already?

“Are you making breakfast?” you asked, trying to make light conversation to break through the silence. 

“Yes, for myself.”

“Oh.” You dropped your gaze and grabbed the smallest shirt you could find in his drawer, which was still considerably large on you. You gathered your panties from last night and slipped them on. 

“You should make your arrangements for some place to go. I can’t leave you here, but I have places I need to be today.” 

You grabbed your purse to retrieve your phone, finally noting the time. 10am. Had you really slept that long? 

“About that…” you paused, contemplating whether or not to tell him the reality of your situation. You didn’t have anywhere to go, and you maybe had enough money to your name for one night, maybe two at a cheap motel. Your boyfriend had taken care of all your finances — that was to say, he had all your money. “I don’t have anywhere to go. But… I can’t impose on you any longer. I’ll figure it out. Thank you for all your help.” 

You started to gather your things, when you heard him stop what he was doing. 

“Wait, stop,” he sighed, “You don’t have to leave just yet.” He paused for a few seconds, and the silence felt deafening. “What’s your address?”

“My-my address?” 

“Yes. Trust me,” his face softened a bit, and you gave it over to him. “I’m going to make a call. The bathroom is over that way if you want to get cleaned up. Feel free to take a shower if you want.” He smiled warmly, and you didn’t know what to make of his sudden change of attitude. One minute he was coldly implying he wanted you gone, and the next he was inviting you to take a shower in his bathroom. You were a mess, however, and a warm shower sounded incredible.

When you got out, Seonghwa was sitting on the edge of the bed, presumably just waiting for you to be done. You wrapped a towel around your hair, squeezing it dry. You still had on nothing but your panties from last night and one of his t-shirts hanging lazily on your frame. You couldn’t help but notice the way he looked you up and down, and more importantly, you noticed the hard outline of his dick poking through his underwear. You did your best to conceal your amusement at his sudden display of weakness for you, pretending not to have noticed. 

He cleared his throat, crossing his legs and shifting his weight to minimize the display of his boner. “I’ve made some arrangements for you. You can’t stay here, but you’ll be able to go back to your place in a few days.” 

The way he phrased it made you pause. “You’ve made… arrangements? What do you mean?”

“It’s best if you don’t question it,” he said flatly. Something about the way he said it felt sinister, but you decided not to push it too much. “You won’t have to worry about that guy anymore.” You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You weren’t quite sure what to say, but what he was saying didn’t make any sense. “In the meantime, I’ll set you up at my other apartment. Just for a few days.”

His _what_ ? Obviously he was rich, you knew that much from the extravagant place you were currently in, but you didn’t realize he was swanky-penthouse _and_ 2nd-apartment rich. 

**“** You don’t have to do that for me,” you said, voice cracking slightly. You started to feel a bit guilty for how much he was offering to do for you, despite having met you less than 24 hours before.

“I couldn’t live with myself if I just threw you out knowing you don’t have anywhere to go. But you have to promise me one thing.”

You gulped. “What?”

“After this is over, you can never contact me again.” Your heart dropped to your stomach. The look in his eyes was once again deadly serious. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, yes, I understand,” you replied, nodding, too afraid to press him any further on it. “Can I- Can I just ask you one thing?”

“Sure.”

“How do you afford this place?” you asked, gesturing to the extravagant furnishings surrounding you. It came out more rudely than you had intended, but the question had been gnawing at you since he first brought you here last night. “I mean… you said you were a security guard, right? This looks like a celebrity’s place,” you said, backtracking a bit. 

He sighed, and his expression indicated he was choosing his words carefully. He was obviously hiding something from you. “My father owns the building. The bar too,” he explained reluctantly. There it was. “Well, technically, it’s supposed to be mine soon.” 

“Then why’d you tell me you were a security guard?”

“I didn’t lie. My father entrusts me to keep up the bar's appearance… among other things. That includes kicking out belligerent customers like your boyfriend last night.” 

“Does looking after the bar usually include taking crying girls up to your apartment?” you jested, doing your best to cut through the serious atmosphere, but he wasn’t laughing.

“I guess I have a soft spot for pretty girls like you,” he said, his unexpected compliment sending an electrifying chill through your body. You knew you had just had sex with him last night, but you still couldn’t wrap your head around an attractive man like him thinking you were worth even a shred of his time. His lips turned up into a charming smile—his playboy was showing. Was he this flattering to every girl he took up here?

You set your gaze down, blushing lightly, deciding to change the subject before he flustered you any further. “Can I eat something before we go at least? I’m kind of starving,” you asked, shuffling your feet. As if on cue, your stomach let out a hungry whine.

He laughed at the sudden noise. “Wow, you weren’t kidding. Yeah, grab anything you want. I’ll take you to the apartment after you’ve had something to eat.”

You made your way to the kitchen, checking in the fridge for something to eat. For such a big and fancy kitchen, it was deceptively empty. You felt Seonghwa’s presence draw up behind you, and he leaned over your shoulder as you checked in the fridge

“Want some help?” he asked calmly, leaning himself over you to grab a carton of eggs from the top shelf. You flipped around to face him, your bodies only inches apart, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. 

He chuckled. “That’s cute,” he said, flashing a smile brighter than you had ever seen from him. His usual expression was cold, serious, but you liked this one a lot better. 

“What’s cute?” 

“You.” 

You felt heat rise in your cheeks in a blush at his sudden compliment. It was small, fleeting even, but you felt all the feelings you had for him last night resurface in an instant. In a rush of sudden desire, you pulled your face up and pressed your lips against his. He pulled back in surprise for a moment before pulling you in, pressing his body against yours. Your sex last night had been good, great even, but the sudden rush you felt indicated to you that you wanted more —no, you needed more. He took your waist in his hands and hoisted you on to the kitchen counter for a better angle. The sudden cold sensation of the marble counters against your skin surprised you, and you let out a small gasp. 

You kissed for a while like that, legs wrapped around his waist as you explored his body with your hands once again. He littered kisses down your neck, pulling the hem of your T-shirt up to continue down your breasts. 

His lust seemed to overtake him at some point, drawing more and more fervent as he kissed and sucked at your skin. He wasn’t able to fully take out his desires on you last night, and that was evident in the way he kissed you now, hungrily, lustfully, intensely. Although you enjoyed the power you felt last night, you did wonder what he was like when he took control. You let out soft, eager moans as his hands made his way between your legs, rubbing his fingers against the crotch of your panties. 

His tongue began to tease the sensitive skin at the inner part of your thigh with gentle licks. It tickled a bit, and you squirmed involuntary, causing him to wrap his arms around your thighs, holding your hips in place while he delivered more teasing kisses. Impatient, you started to slip your own panties off desperately, and he finally gave in to your hints, licking a long stripe of wetness between your legs. He used his tongue skillfully, immediately finding your most sensitive areas and exploiting them, eliciting pleasured moans. You were reminded of how expressive his tongue had been during your encounter the night before, and you certainly weren’t disappointed by how he used it today. 

He ate you out with more grace and finesse this time, in less of a drunken frenzy than he was last night. Not that it was bad, just different. He looked up at you, smiling as he dragged his tongue across your clit, squeezing your thighs with his hands. It made your heart skip a beat, as you were dead sober now, and here the most beautiful man on the planet was smirking at you from between your legs. 

You moaned, your fingertips scratching along the cool countertop, and your legs involuntarily squeezed around his head. This spurred him on to move faster, and soon enough you were squirming in his hold, biting your lip to try and silence the noises escaping you to no avail. You rocked your hips up against his face, grinding against him as he fucked you with his tongue. You tipped your head back, hitting it against the cabinet with a soft bang, and Seonghwa laughed, his warm breath against your skin sending tingles down your spine. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, your laugh melting into a sigh as his tongue started moving faster. He sucked hard on your clit, and you jolted forward at the sudden pleasure, whining as he ate you out mercilessly. Your legs tightened against his back, your fingers fisting into his hair as he moaned against your pussy, and you came hard, bucking your hips up into his face uncontrollably. 

He planted soft kisses against your inner thigh as he stood up, caging you against the countertop once again as he leaned in to press your lips together. He kissed you sweetly for a moment, then abruptly slid you off the counter and spun you around. You fell forward, leaning against the countertop with your chest. He pressed you down onto it as he kissed along the back of your neck, delivering a sudden smack to your ass. 

You felt the tip of his dick sliding against you, pushing in suddenly as he draped his body over your back. His hands came up to rest on the countertop, leaning against it with his elbows. He was clearly horny and impatient, wasting no time pounding into you, and you moaned helplessly against the counter as you took each thrust. You could feel his breath against your neck as he moaned, shoving you harder against the counter as his thrusts grew faster. 

“Harder,” you whined, and he obliged. You ribs ached against the marble, but you loved the way he groaned through his teeth as he fucked you as hard as he could. You clawed helplessly against the counter as he started to break his rhythm, thrusting wildly as he reached his peak. He pulled out, painting your ass with warm streaks of cum, and you struggled for breath as your body lay plastered to the countertop. 

Looks like it was time for another shower.

***********************

After showering and getting cleaned up, you left with him so he could set you up at his second place. It wasn’t as swanky as his last, but it certainly was nicer than anywhere you’d ever lived. It was more of a townhouse than an apartment, and it was surprisingly humble, with only a few stand-out pieces that would make you think he was ultra-rich. There were a couple spare rooms, but no extra beds, so he set you up in his room for the time being. It was only for a few days after all. 

For the first three days, he visited you to check in at least once daily, usually in the evening, and you’d have some drinks and chat for a bit. He still divulged very little about his past, and the two of you never ventured your conversations further than surface-level. Even so, you enjoyed talking to him. Maybe it was that you hadn’t really gotten to speak like this to anyone since living with your boyfriend, but you felt like you had real chemistry. You took pride in every time you could break through Seonhwa’s hard exterior and make him laugh. 

Of course, you’d also fucked. Your attraction to him was impossible to hide, and through your conversations, the tension between you was palpable. Each time was somehow better than the last. You wanted to take advantage of the fleeting opportunity you had to fuck him, as his words had not left your head — the minute you returned to your home, you were never to contact him again.

On the fourth day, he sent you a text to let you know he wasn’t going to be able to visit you. You were a bit disappointed, but you took the opportunity to snoop around a little, as you still hadn’t learned anything more about him than he had told you the morning at his penthouse. Maybe there was something in his place that could give you a clue to who he really was. Besides your growing curiosity, you were also incredibly bored. What kind of guy didn’t even own a television, anyway?

You were shuffling through some boxes in his closet, looking through stacks of boring documents. You were about to give up on your intrusive quest when one paper caught your eye — specifically an enormous collection of zeros stacked on the end of a dollar sign. Like an _enormous_ amount of zeros. 

His bank statement. Your immediate reaction was to look away. Looking at someone’s bank statement felt incredibly private, almost too private, and you glanced around the room, suddenly worried there was some sort of hidden camera catching you in the act of a crime. But you couldn’t look away. You had never seen anything near that amount of money in your life, and your curiosity was only amplified as you scanned the document. 

Maybe this wasn’t even his. It wouldn’t make any sense — even for someone whose dad owns a bar, even if he owned ten bars, this was more money than any normal human should ever be able to attain. You scanned for a name, and surely, written plainly at the top: Park Seonghwa. 

Wait, Park? His last name was Park? You had heard that name before, but it took you a second to figure out exactly from where. 

And then it hit you like a truck. But there was no way…

You set the papers down in shock. You could only stare at the wall as your thoughts slowly put the pieces together.

_The Park Mafia._

You’d heard about them as a kid, they were notorious in your town, but they felt like a local legend rather than a real organization. All you knew about them was that they had existed for over a century, and you figured they had died out by now. 

But here he was, and it made total sense. His apartment, the bar, the way he talked about his father, his aura of power, his unreasonable amount of money… 

Your hands were shaking as you grabbed your phone and scanned for his number in your contacts. You were simultaneously furious and terrified: furious that he hadn’t told you yet and terrified that you were in way over your head. Maybe you were thinking too much about it, maybe it was just a coincidence that he shared a last name with a notorious mafia. Or at least that’s what you tried to tell yourself. 

The ring of the phone felt endless. He picked up finally, but his voice was immediately laced with annoyance. “I told you not to call me here unless it’s an emergency.”

“Your family. What did you say they did again?” you asked, trying your best to sound calm, but you were anything but.

“I didn’t.” 

“Well, then what do they do?” Your voice was rising now, unable to hold back your frustration.

He didn’t want to answer, you knew that, and your suspicions only grew with his silence. He hadn’t admitted to anything, but he may as well have. “How is this important? Look, I have to go.”

You were distracted by the distinct sound of a lock clicking from the entrance. 

“Wait, Seonghwa.” Footsteps. Your voice grew panicked. “Are you walking through the door right now?”

“No, I’m—“

The distinct voices of two men grew louder as they drew closer to the bedroom, and your heart dropped to your stomach. “Then who the fuck is?”

A figure came into view in the doorframe, and he smiled as he lunged toward you. You dropped the phone and scrambled off the bed to run, but he grabbed your ankle so you couldn’t escape. 

“Where ya goin,’ princess?” he sneered. 

You screamed. 


	2. dark star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kidnapped and helpless, Seonghwa is the only one that can save you. Will his secrets finally come to light?

The trunk of the van was cold and unforgiving against your limbs as you sat helplessly against the wall, the curve and bumps of the road jostling you slightly. It was hard to keep your balance with your wrists bound together behind you. In front of you, your ankles were also bound tightly with rope. Your captors had blindfolded you, and no matter how much you writhed and tossed your head around, you couldn’t figure out a way to slip it off. Not that it would have mattered - your eyesight was the least helpful thing you could have had right now. Your screams and cries for help only echoed uselessly in the metal cage of the van, and at a certain point your voice gave out and you gave up entirely, hanging your head in defeat.

You felt the van swerve around a sharp corner, nearly toppling you over on your side. The car rumbled beneath you as if going over loose gravel. Finally you halted to a stop, lurching you forward slightly. The doors of the van unlatched with a distinct click and swung open. The voices of the men were clear now. 

“Help me grab ‘er,” one said, and you felt the van’s weight shift as he climbed in the back with you. You screamed as he grabbed you and yanked you from the open trunk. You were met with the brisk outside air and the cold, wet feeling of rain gently falling around you. 

The man guided you by your shoulders through the gravel, and you shuffled your feet to keep from tripping. You were inside a building now, and he shoved you down onto a creaky wooden chair. He took a second to re-tie you to the chair before slipping the blindfold off, your eyes taking only a few seconds to adjust to the dim light in the room. It looked like you were in some kind of shed, maybe even a barn, but you couldn’t tell. There were two men in front of you, one significantly taller than the other, their height being really their only distinguishing features. 

“Don’t worry sweetheart. We won’t hurt you as long as your little boyfriend brings us what we want,” the taller man said. The pet name made you cringe. 

“Fuck you. And he’s not my boyfriend,” you sneered through gritted teeth. “What do you want from him anyway?”

“Not your business sweetie,” the shorter man said.

“I don’t know how much of a piece of shit you have to be to kidnap an innocent girl, but don’t think Seonghwa is gonna let you get away with this,” you spat at them. You don’t know what overcame you to be so openly combative with the men who were holding you hostage, but the spite dripped so easily off your tongue. 

“Feisty little thing, aren’t you? Don’t make us gag you,” the tall man said. He stepped close to you, tipping your chin up to look at him. You cringed in disgust, trying not to meet his eyes. “We don’t want to hurt a pretty girl like you,” he said, running a finger across your jaw. You fought back the urge to bite down hard on his finger. You might have been angry, but you didn’t have a death wish. 

“We’re not worried about Seonghwa. He might be the boss’ son but he has... well… a reputation. That pretty boy would never have the guts to do anything,” the shorter man said from across the room, laughing lightly. “I don’t know if you knew this, but your boyfriend has a reputation for being kind of a pussy.”

“Still not my boyfriend,” you grumbled through your teeth.  
  
Despite what they were implying, you weren’t worried about his ability to fight—you could still vividly recall the smooth and almost effortless way he took out your boyfriend, the way he stretched out his fingers casually afterwards like it was nothing to him. You remembered the way Seonghwa looked at him like trash on the floor afterwards. And most of all, you remembered how Seonghwa had told you he made arrangements to ‘take care of him’. Although you didn’t question it much at the time, a part of you wondered if he had ordered for him to be killed, especially knowing the connections he must have. You shook the thought out of your head. There were more important things to worry about, like being tied to a chair in some dingy shack. 

The taller man stepped away from you and leaned into his partner’s ear, whispering something you couldn’t make out. 

They left shortly after that, leaving you tied on the chair for what could have been anywhere from ten minutes to ten hours, you couldn’t tell. Your eyelids began to grow heavy as you waited with nothing but your thoughts and the pattering of rain on the ceiling.

A loud noise shook you from your trance. Someone had kicked through the door, and it rattled off its hinges easily as if it was held together with duct tape.

_Seonghwa._

In your sudden relief, you could only choke out one stupid sentence. “You probably could have just opened that, you know.”

He laughed at your unexpected greeting, but quickly growing serious again at the sight of you tied helplessly to the chair. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” 

“No, not yet… fuck, can you get me out of these things? They’re starting to cut off my circulation.” you gestured to the ropes viced around your limbs.

Your relief was short-lived. In an unskillful display of desperation, your kidnappers shoved their way through the kicked-in door frame.

Was your vision giving out? You were sure you had been kidnapped by two men before, but there were four now. Fuck. You were confident in Seonghwa’s ability to fight against two men, but four? The newer additions were much burlier, too.

Seonghwa turned on his heels to face the captors, but he seemed unshaken. He shot you a confident glance over his shoulder, and something gleamed in his eye. What was it? Was he seriously going to take on four men on his own? What kind of overconfident idiot-

Before you could conclude your thought, one man was on the floor already. There was a sickening crack and a _thud_ as he hit the ground, but Seonghwa hadn’t moved. One of the men lunged forward. He grabbed Seonghwa by the lapel of his jacket, cocking his elbow for a hook, but Seonghwa intercepted him with a viper quick jab to the throat. He staggered back, saliva dribbling from his lips as he clutched his throat. 

As your line of vision cleared, you saw two additional men had entered the fray. At first you thought you were fucked, but then you heard a voice call out a friendly greeting. 

“Yo, Hwa! Heard you were getting your ass kicked.” 

The distinct sound of a fist hitting flesh echoed against the walls of the room, and another one of the kidnappers staggered back. 

“Who, me? Like hell,” Seonghwa called, smiling viciously as he dodged another blow from throat-punch guy, who looked furious. Seonghwa landed a well angled hit to his jaw, effectively uppercutting his lights out. He landed hard on the floor, dead weight as he was knocked cold, and Seonghwa turned on his heels to grab his next victim. 

A flash of red hair caught your eye as he ducked and weaved between two guys, while a blonde guy wound up a swing with a crowbar like an all star baseball champion. Red hair baited one opponent closer, ducking just in time for blondie to knock him out of the park. The sound of the crowbar hitting his teeth sent shivers down your spine, but you simultaneously wanted to leap up and cheer them on. You stayed glued to your seat, heart pumping with adrenaline. 

Molars scattered across the floor. Poor guy landed hard, wailing in agony as blood poured from his lips. Red haired guy threw a lethal cross, twisting his hip to power up his momentum as his fist impacted the other guy’s nose, most likely shattering it, sending him staggering back in a daze. He fell right into Seonghwa, who grabbed him by the jacket and sent him careening toward the wall, his forehead cracking against a support beam. He dropped like a rock, and the room fell quiet, save for one guy shrieking in pain. A swift boot to the jaw silenced him, and blondie turned, tossing the crowbar over his shoulder with a satisfied smirk. 

Seonghwa turned back to you, rubbing his bruised knuckles with a huff. His lips turned up into a smile, and he gave a nod with his head toward the new guys. 

“So, these are my cohorts. Wooyoung—” he paused, pointing at blondie, who tilted his head up in a friendly nod, “—and Jongho,” he pointed at the redhead, who gave you an adorable smile and a wave.

“So this is the girl, huh?” Wooyoung said, smiling at you as he looked you up and down. Out of the three of them, he looked the most like he belonged in the mafia. He wore a loosely fitted leopard print button up under a black leather jacket, his side-shaven bleach blonde hair neatly styled with gel. “She’s cute.”

Next to him, Jongho stood sternly. You wondered how this baby-faced guy could have taken out the burly one all on his own. He seemed younger than Seonghwa, but certainly stronger. “She definitely looks like your type, Seonghwa,” Jongho said, flashing a knowing smile at him. “We all know you like a girl in bondage.”

Seonghwa’s face immediately went flush. “Shut up, Jongho,” he said, shooting him a threatening glare. “Come on, help me untie her before more of their goons come looking for them,” Seonghwa said, moving around the chair to loosen the tight knots bound on your wrists. 

You turned your head over your shoulder and widened your eyes at him, arching your eyebrows as you watched him skillfully disentangle the knots. “You like a girl in _what?”_

“We can talk about this later,” he muttered through his teeth, his cheeks an incriminating beet-red.

“Careful, you’ll scare her off,” Wooyoung teased. 

“Honestly, if getting kidnapped didn’t scare her off, I don’t think anything will,” Jongho reassured Seonghwa with a pat to the shoulder. You felt oddly proud at that, for some reason. He was right, you were a tough cookie, you could handle a kidnapping or two. 

Seonghwa gave you a hand as you rose from the chair, steadying you with a delicate hand around your waist. Your joints creaked from being tied up for so long, but you could walk on your own. Still, he kept a protective arm around you as he escorted you back to the car. You stepped over one of the unconscious bodies on your way out, his tall frame blocking the doorway. You cringed at the puddle of crimson around his mouth, but celebrated your freedom nonetheless. His hand twitched as you lifted your leg over him, and you flinched, curling your fingers tighter into Seonghwa’s shirt. He laughed softly, pulling you close. 

You slid into the passenger seat of Seonghwa’s car, the plush leather of his Bentley Continental soothing the ache in your bones. It was hands down the single most expensive thing you’d ever touched, and you couldn’t help but to imagine what it would be like for him to pick you up in it for a date. You sighed as you relaxed into it, feeling tired from the adrenaline comedown. 

A blacked-out Mercedes S Class revved its engine as it peeled out of the lot, and Wooyoung winked at you from the driver’s side window. 

“That douche,” Seonghwa laughed as he turned his key in the ignition. The engine purred decadently, and Seonghwa slammed on the gas, tearing down the road right on Wooyoung’s heels. You gripped the edge of your seat as the inertia slammed you backwards, a thrilled laugh bubbling up from your chest. 

He shifted gears, launching into a high speed battle of pride with the other guys, flying down the rural highway with his tongue poking out in concentration, one side of his mouth quirked up into a smirk. He put the S Class in his rear view mirror, and you couldn’t help but to roll the window down, shoving your fist out with a triumphant holler. You grinned widely as the wind blew your hair in a wild tornado, your screams and laughter lost in the roar of the highway. You noticed Seonghwa peek over at you, a tiny smile tugging at his lips, but just for a second. 

**********************

Exhaustion hit the moment you stepped into his apartment, but your mind was still reeling from the day’s events. You didn’t plan on getting much sleep that night, and you were still a bit angry at Seonghwa for not disclosing the fact that he was in the fucking _mafia,_ but you chose to shove those feelings aside. Mafia or not, you still felt much safer with than without him. 

“Seonghwa.” 

“Hm?”

“Don’t leave me tonight. Please?” you looked at him with the biggest, saddest eyes you could manage, hoping to hit a soft spot. You didn’t need much.

He sighed. “Of course I won’t. This is all my fault anyway. If something were to happen again I wouldn't be able to forgive myself."

And so he stayed.

You talked for a while on the bed as you tried your best to calm yourself down. You were still in a rush of nerves from adrenaline and relaxation felt hopeless, sleep even more so. In fact, sleep wasn’t even in the realm of possibilities. 

As you made conversation, you recalled a question that had been nagging at you since he'd saved you earlier. You could have asked him anything you wanted. You could have asked what the men wanted, or how he found you, but instead…

"Hey… what was with that thing Jongho said back there? About ‘liking a girl in bondage’?”

Seonghwa immediately pulled his gaze away, breaking eye contact, heat rising in his cheeks like before. “He was just teasing me.”

“So it’s not true?”

“I never said it wasn’t,” he said, running his fingers through his hair. You admired the curve of his jaw, and suddenly you wanted nothing more than for him to take you right there. His eyes went dark as he paused to pull his gaze up and down at your body. “I always thought you’d look good tied up for me.”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat. You saw how he looked at you, hungrily, as if picturing you bound to the bed frame right then. But something seemed to be holding him back, like he was trying to resist the temptation to fall back into a bad habit. You wouldn’t let him.  
  
You held out your wrists playfully in front of you. "Well then tie me up." His eyes widened at your proposal. "C'mon. Look, I can't sleep like this. I need a distraction. Please."

He drew his tongue across his bottom lip pensively, before finally giving in with a click of his tongue against his teeth. "I really can't say no to you." 

You smiled at how easily he conceded to your pleas. He was surely thinking the same thing that had been on your mind for the past week—this was going to have to end, and some time had to be the last. He had made you promise to never contact him after this was over, and you were sure now more than ever after putting you through danger that he was going to hold up his end of that deal. This would be your last soiree with him, and you wanted—no, needed—it to count. 

He leaned in, hooking his hand on the collar of your shirt, eyes glazed over with lustful intensity. “You’re too dangerous for me, you know... I have no control when it comes to you.” A shiver traveled down your spine. That’s exactly what you wanted: you wanted him to lose his control for you, you wanted him weak for you. You wanted him to want you like you wanted him. “And that’s why I want to make this last time unforgettable.”

You broke the thick tension between you with a slow, sensual kiss, sliding your tongue against his. He nibbled at your lip as you pulled back slowly, lingering your lips precariously close to his, nearly touching. His fingers dug into your waist hungrily. “Do your worst.” 

“Are you sure you mean that?” he asked carefully. The air between you grew hot as the tension rose, your lips barely grazed against each other’s. 

“Yes, I’m sure.” Something about the amount of restraint he seemed to be exercising told you there was a part of him he was holding back, something more animalistic. 

“You have to tell me if I’m being too rough, okay?” he said, voice smooth like honey, tracing a finger along the curve of your jaw. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

You nodded eagerly, willingly accepting his terms. If this was the last time you could experience him, you wanted everything he had, no matter what it was. Something about the soft way he talked about hurting you gave chills. He was entirely gentle and yet his words felt sinister. 

He stood up to receive something from the closet, what looked like a thin scarf. You expected him to cinch your hands together with it, but instead he sat himself behind you, pulling the silky material around your eyes and fastening it tightly with a knot at the back of your head. “Good girl,” he praised, his voice deep and smooth like honey.

He let his fingers wander down your neck and shoulders, pausing to stroke your collarbone. His touch was gentle but electrifying. You were entirely blind now, but you could feel the heat of his gaze from behind you. The blindness was exhilarating, as it left your other senses completely heightened.  
  
He continued to let his fingers trace your collarbone as his lips made contact with the sensitive skin at the back of your neck, placing slow and sensual kisses slowly down your neck and shoulders. He took his time, excruciatingly, as you squirmed in anticipation for his next move. You were truly submissive in the blindfold—he had complete control over his next move. The thrill of anticipation made your head spin.

Still behind you, he lifted the hem of your shirt up slowly, and you followed suit by pulling your arms up to help him strip you. He released the clasp of your bra, gently removing it. His hands wandered at your breasts, tracing over your nipples until they grew hard and sensitive. 

Out of nowhere, you felt a sudden tension around your wrists behind you. The familiar rough sensation of rope cinched your arms together. “You’re doing so good for me darling,” he whispered in your ear, delivering one final tightening of the knot, causing you to yelp out in surprise. “You look even prettier like this than I imagined.” 

You were sitting on the bed now on your knees in only your panties, blindfold cutting off your vision, wrists bound behind you. Seonghwa sat straddling you from behind, and you could feel he had stripped entirely. He caressed your body for a while, teasing you with a brutally faint touch. You moaned and squirmed eagerly as he wandered his hand closer to your already soaked panties, rubbing his fingers against the damp fabric. His fingers slipped inside you briefly, and you let out soft pleasured moans. The sensation was overwhelming after such excruciatingly drawn out teasing. 

Your moans were cut off by Seonghwa’s finger hooking over your teeth and pushing into your mouth. You sucked at it eagerly, and he shoved a few more inside, eliciting an involuntary gag. You heard Seonghwa sigh lustfully in your ear at the sound, taking pleasure in what he was doing to you. “That’s it baby,” he said, his deep voice resonating like music to your ears. His other hand continued to pulse in and out of you, and you were practically dripping now, unable to hold back your neediness. Your pleasured moans were muffled as you sucked and licked at his long fingers.

“Tell me what you want,” he ordered. He’d never been so forward or vocal before. You loved hearing his deep voice dripping like honey in your ear-- just the sound of it could have been enough to drive you all the way over the edge if he kept talking. 

“Mmf- I want- you- fuck me-” you mumbled through his fingers, and he shoved them in further, eliciting another soft gag. You couldn’t express what you wanted, not only because of his fingers muffling your sounds, but your head was spinning from his touch. “Please- fu- mm-”

“How cute, you can’t even get words out.” 

He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, drool pooling at the sides of your lips. Between your legs, his other hand pulled your soaked panties down your legs as he began to circle your clit with his thumb. You whimpered under his complete control. He used his fingers so masterfully, like everything else he did. His contented breaths in your ear sent shivers down your spine. 

He repositioned himself suddenly, sitting up tall behind you, and dragged you up straight against him. You felt both his hands move under your ass, hoisting you up over his waist and pushing you down on his dick without warning. You let out a choked cry as his dick stretched you out entirely. “Fuck, Y/N…” he growled, his voice getting darker every time he spoke. “You have no idea how much I want to ruin you.”

He rutted his hips up under you, thrusting himself even deeper inside where you sat on his dick. You let out another cry, and his hand came up to your neck. Your arms, still bound together behind you, squirmed and writhed at the urge to claw at the fingers viced around you. You loved the sensation as his grip tightened, sending you soaring in an unfamiliar headrush. He bucked his hips up and down as you tightened around his shaft

“Seonghwa, fuck- ah-” Your choked cries seemed to spur him on to grip tighter around your neck. Your high nearly spilled over into darkness as he loosened his grip suddenly. You let out a few sputtering coughs as you caught your breath. 

He thrusted a few more times up into you as you caught your breath. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

“It’s okay- ah- I like the pain,” you said breathlessly. 

“Mm…” he sighed roughly against the back of your neck, planting a few soft kisses. “You really shouldn’t have said that.” 

His hands came to your waist, hoisting you off his dick. It slid out with a lewd sound, and you felt him get up from behind you. You were sure you looked like a drooling, horny mess, still bound and blindfolded on the bed helplessly. 

You sat there for a while in silence, and the anticipation of his next move kept you on edge, unable to settle in. The silence was unnerving, almost excruciating. Was he gone? Was he watching? 

You snapped up when you finally heard footsteps again, pacing around the room and then coming towards you. He leaned into your ear, pulling his arms around your waist to untie the ropes around your wrists. 

“Do you trust me?” he asked carefully. You nodded. You _did_ trust him, but at this point, you would have said anything to keep his hands on you. You didn’t care what he did, you just craved his touch.

“With your words.” 

“Yes, yes, I trust you Seonghwa. Please.”

He untied your blindfold and it slipped off your face, falling to the bed by your knees. It was dark, but your eyes took a moment to adjust to the faint glow of the moonlight washing through the window. His face overwhelmed you instantly—you didn’t realize how much you’d missed it while blinded. The cut of his jaw was the first thing you noticed, then his dark, lustful eyes sparkling in the faint light. His lips pulled up into a smirk as he watched your eyes trace his features. You’re sure the look on your face indicated the way you were marveling at him, as if you were admiring the world’s most beautiful piece of art. 

“We’re gonna play a game,” he purred, still leaning over the bed where you sat, fully freed from the ropes. His eye contact was piercing, almost terrifyingly.

“What’s the game?”

“I’m gonna fuck you, and every time you make a pretty little noise…” he delivered a light smack to the side of your ass. “I spank you.”

Your jaw dropped at his proposal. You liked it—you already admitted you liked a little pain to him earlier—but was this the same Seonghwa you practically dommed in his penthouse? 

“What if I can’t control it?”

“Well then your ass is going to hurt tomorrow, isn’t it?” 

You gulped, nodding. His aura oozed power now. He may have been in the mafia, but he’d never displayed so much power, so much control, until now.

He climbed on the bed, flipping you over easily and guiding your face to the pillows. He hoisted your hips up to be flush with his, running one finger along your folds to test your wetness, before aligning the tip of his cock at your opening. Already, you were struggling to hold back moans, your body trembling under his touch. 

He slid the tip in slowly, and you rocked forward in pleasure, biting your lip to keep in the noises. He positioned one hand at the small of your waist, the other on your ass, waiting. As he thrust himself all the way in you couldn’t control the cries that fell from your lips. 

“What did I tell you?” He said, delivering the first harsh smack to your ass. You gritted your teeth at the sudden impact, but the light sting also felt incredible as he rocked inside of you. Your breathing grew shallow as he toyed with you, switching up the pace in a way that had your head spinning. You could tell he wasn’t moving in a way to get himself off—he wanted to watch you squirm. 

He thrusted in another time, hard, and you whimpered involuntarily. Another smack. This went on for several minutes, Seonghwa continuing to deliver harsh smacks to your ass until it was stained with a permanent sting. You were shaking under his touch, and he let up, rubbing your back with comforting pressure. 

“Have you had enough, darling?” he cooed softly, almost condescendingly, but it sounded amazing coming off his tongue. You nodded. “Mm, okay, we can be done now.”

He stroked your hair as he thrust himself back in, picking up a considerable rhythm now. You moaned like your life depended on it now, finally able to let it out. He gripped a hand in your hair, pulling it together into a messy ponytail, tugging lightly as he slid his dick in and out. Your eyes rolled back into your head as he pounded into you. You could definitively say now that he fucked exactly how he looked—like a god. 

His other hand made its way underneath you, tracing your clit. It only took a few seconds of stimulation for your orgasm to hit, and it was more intense than you’d ever experienced before, or imagined you could experience again. It rocked through your body like a wave, overtaking you entirely. You let out a final cry as it reached its summit. Seonghwa let out a final grunt as he reached his tipping point, pulling out of you to spill over onto your back. 

You collapsed onto your stomach, completely spent, and you could swear you blacked out for a moment while he brought in a damp washcloth to clean you up with. 

The dominant side of him seemed to melt away instantly, as he stroked your back gently. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you too much?”

You nodded drowsily, all your pain seeming to dissolve under his touch.

You fell asleep on him that night, nestled in the warmth of his neck. You fit so perfectly in his arms like that, like it was meant to be. You imagined what it would feel like to cuddle up to him like this every night, but the thought was too good to be true.  
  
You knew this was the last chance you would have to touch him like this. 

**********************

It had been several months since you last saw Seonghwa, and you were just starting to move on from him. Well, part of that was true. The last time you’d been in contact with him was when he had dropped you at your apartment, ex-boyfriend nowhere in sight. You didn’t push him too much on how he managed to “take care” of him, assuming he’d paid him off or ran him out of town by threatening him. Either way, you had just been happy to be back home. Your days with Seonghwa felt like a distant fever dream, but it was several weeks until you could get the taste of him off your lips and his image out of your mind. 

You did your best to scrub him from your head, but it felt impossible. He haunted you in every way possible. 

On one day of particularly drunken weakness, you paid a visit to his bar. You justified it by saying you were just checking in on him, making sure he was okay, but really you just wanted to see his face. Was it risky? Extremely. Were you drunk? Also extremely. You sat in an indiscriminate seat at the end of the bar, hoping not to be seen. But another part of you wanted him to notice you, regardless of the consequences. That was the drunk part.

But he didn’t notice you. In fact, he wasn’t even concentrating on the happenings of the bar at all. You could see him atop his VIP throne, the one that overlooked every seat in the bar from the lofted second story. He had a girl by his side, his arm draped around her waist, clearly flirting. Scorching heat rose in your chest as you watched him seduce her, your heart stinging with a fiery jealousy you had never felt before.  
  
In the back of your mind, you always knew he was bound to be back to his socialite self, bringing girls up to his penthouse suite every night—the same penthouse suite you had shared that first fateful night… and the morning after. Even so, the jealousy burned in your throat, and so did the alcohol you were knocking back to drown your feelings.  
  
A large part of you wanted to disappear off the face of the earth right that second, shrink into the bar stool and never be seen again. The other part wanted him to notice you, even if just for a moment. You didn’t care if he was mad that you came, you just wanted to take him in up close again. You wanted him to acknowledge you. You watched in anguish as he let the girl by her waist in the direction of the elevators, not to be seen again. You left the bar that night sobbing, and didn’t stop until you passed out in bed.  
  
Since then, you swore you were never going to think about him again. He wasn’t worth it. You had to come to terms with the fact that you were just another one of his playthings—one he just happened to take pity on.

You swore you’d move on, and you did, mostly. The independence of not being tied down felt incredible, and you took advantage of your newfound sexual prowess to download a dating app and have some fun for yourself. But there was a small part of you -- one that you didn’t ever want to admit to—that could only picture Seonghwa every time you fucked another guy. 

**********************

11pm. 

You were laying in bed, swiping hopelessly through men on your phone, sifting through hundreds of desperate guys you couldn’t care less about. You couldn’t sleep, even after a few pathetic drinks alone in your kitchen, when you heard a knock. You had felt on edge about people coming to your door ever since the kidnapping, but today you were too tired to deal with the incessant knocking. It just kept coming. It was probably your neighbor coming to tell you you left your lights on again. 

You swung the door open, wondering who could possibly be knocking with such carelessness at this time in the night.

_Park Seonghwa._

You were immediately flooded with the same intimidated feeling you had on the night you met him. He looked like a model, maybe even a god, standing in your doorway. He ran his hand through his freshly shaved undercut and you took in the sight, unable to tear your eyes away. He looked just as stunning as you remembered—even more so. But something wasn’t quite right. He was swaying slightly, and as he spoke your name, the words were slightly slurred.

“Y/N… I-”

“Are you drunk?” 

“No… yes… maybe,” he laughed lightly before stumbling inside without an invitation. You knew enough to move out of his way. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

You froze. You’d never seen him so incoherent. You immediately recognized the smell lingering a bit too long in his breath as the expensive champagne he had poured for you in his penthouse that night.

“Seonghwa, how much did you drink?” you asked, voice laced with concern. You led him through your apartment to the couch, where he plopped himself down with an alarming amount of force. 

“Enough to know what I really want.” He looked up at you with sparkling eyes. “You.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” you said seriously. 

His eyes glimmered with lust. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I want you to fuck me right here.”

This man was dangerous. And you didn’t mean in the mafia sense, although that was also true. You meant in the way he could completely ruin you if you let him. You had tried so hard to finally wipe him from your memory and move on, but you were stained with a constant desire to feel his touch again. You were finally moving on until now, when the desire surged back in, and it was like it had never left. 

“You’re drunk,” you said dismissively, doing your best to ignore the fact that you definitely wanted to fuck him, like right that second. “Let me get you a glass of water.”

His eyes looked heavy as he struggled to even hold the cup in his hands. His eyes were glued on you with the lust of a thousand horny teenage boys, but something about his hungry gaze felt comfortable to you, and you welcomed it. 

“You look like an angel,” he muttered softly. “You’re an angel sent from heaven to ruin me. I know you are.” You laughed as he seemed to get more incoherent. You glanced down at your oversized pajamas, wondering what he meant when he said you looked like an angel. “I missed you… I-I can’t get your body out of my head.”

You shook your head, trying to clear any desire you had out of your mind. He was way too drunk. “Shh, Seonghwa. Lay down.” 

You grabbed the water glass from his hand and handed him a blanket, guiding his shoulder gently down a laying down position on the couch. You settled in next to him, and he placed his head in your lap. Something about his current state felt incredibly vulnerable, and you’d never seen him like this. 

You petted his hair softly. He looked up at you with sad, sparkly, drunken eyes. “You’re pretty,” he said with a dorky smile. 

You chuckled. “You’re drunk.” 

He nodded, and his eyebrows furrowed suddenly. “I hate my father.”

You zipped your lips tightly, trying to give him room to continue. He still hadn’t spoken about his family since the first night at his house, and you wanted to take advantage of his drunken state. 

“He treats me like his puppet, but I’m nothing like him. I never asked for this. I just want to live a normal life for once.” You nodded, urging him to keep going. You didn’t want to ruin this moment of vulnerability. “You know those paintings… at my place, above the bar? Those are mine.”

“You bought them?”

“I painted them.”

You went silent. You couldn’t remember them in detail, but you remembered that they were beautiful, like they belonged in a museum. You kind of assumed they were stolen, to be honest.

“ _You_ painted those? All of them?”

“I’ve always wanted to be an artist.” He paused. “But I’m trapped being my father’s stupid fucking puppet. I’m supposed to take his position next year, but I don’t want it. I don’t want any of it. I’m so sick of the bar. He expects me to just sit there and keep his appearances for him. I’m sick of just drinking myself numb and fucking girls mindlessly.” 

Fucking girls mindlessly? Was he fucking you mindlessly?

“Girls like me?” He paused, trying to remember what he had just said. “You’re tired of fucking girls like me?”

“No…” he shook his head vigorously, realizing what he said. “You’re the only girl that has made me feel something... in a long time.”

Your cheeks went red hot. What was he admitting to you? His eyes were getting heavier, and so was his head, the heavy weight of his skull starting to crush your thighs. You stroked his hair a few more times and gently scooted out from under him, guiding his head down to the couch. 

“Get some sleep.”

  
**********************

You checked on Seonghwa immediately when you woke up. He was sitting upright on the couch where you left him last night, hunched over slightly, rubbing his temples. He raised his eyes as you walked in. “God, what happened last night? I feel like I got hit by a train.”

“What do you remember?”

“Drinking… and not much else.”

“Do you remember what you told me?”

He froze, the look in his eyes quickly transitioning from confusion to pure terror. “Oh god… what did I tell you?”

“Everything. About your family. Your paintings. You told me I was pretty.”

“Well, that last one I don’t regret,” he said, rubbing his temples harder. “Do you have like… some painkillers? Coffee maybe? God...”

“Wow, you really don’t get wasted much.”

He chuckled. God, you missed his laugh. “Takes a lot.”

You returned to him on the couch with a cup of coffee and some Ibuprofen. Something about giving him painkillers felt… wrong. As ridiculous as it sounded, by the way he carried himself, you would think he was almost invincible, like he didn’t even feel pain or something. You plopped yourself down next to him, and you talked for a while as he drowned his hangover with coffee. 

You made him breakfast, buttered toast and fried eggs, and suddenly you felt like a housewife. It was nice - you wished you could do this more often. He smiled at you around his toast, with his messy, tousled hair and tired eyes, and he almost looked human for once. As close as he ever could, at least. 

He wrapped his arms around your waist, thanking you for breakfast as he pressed his lips against yours. You melted against him, embracing him like your body was designed for it. You wanted to hold him close and never let go, and the idea of him never coming back was one you shoved deep into the back of your mind as you deepened the kiss. 

He pressed you against the counter, kissing you like your lips held the answers to all of his problems, and you kissed back like you knew how to solve them. His hands were warm as they slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, and you ran your fingers through his hair, soft and freshly cut. 

You dipped your fingers into the waistband of his pants, and his hands immediately tightened their grip on your waist, pulling you flush against him. Your hands sank further down, teasing your fingers over his cock through the fabric, and he groaned low in his throat. 

He pulled back suddenly, a concerned look growing on his face. “What time is it?”

You glanced at the clock. “11am. Why?”

“Shit. Fuck. I have to go.”

_Damn it. It was just getting good._

“Will you come back?” you asked, a little too desperately. You flashed the puppy dog eyes you already knew he couldn’t resist. You didn’t realize just how much you had missed him until he was right in front of you, his hands all over your body. 

He sighed. “I mean, there’s no point in hiding anything from you anymore. I guess I laid everything out on the table when I burst in here drunk last night.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes. I’ll come back as soon as I can, I promise. I just have some… matters I need to attend to with my father.”

“Is that why you were drinking?”

“It’s not important,” he said dismissively, and suddenly you felt him building a wall again. You gave him one more soft kiss before he left. 

“Don’t let him get to you, okay? I’m always here if you want to talk about it.”

He gathered himself up quickly, glancing over his shoulder one last time before heading out. “Thanks.”

**********************

Over the next month, you dated in secret. Nothing was ever explicitly stated about the nature of your relationship, but he visited you almost every night, and you did everything together from dinners to movie nights on your couch to fucking on the kitchen counter. Well, mostly the last one. You weren’t sure if you could call him your boyfriend, but he would have been by anyone else's standards. 

Every day that passed you learned a little more about him. The thing you liked the best? He was secretly kind of a dork. Contrary to the serious and powerful image he put on to the outside world, his true nature was much softer and sweeter than you could have ever anticipated.  
  
You fell for him in the simplest tasks: the way he hummed while he washed the dishes, the way he cried a little when he laughed too hard, the stars that shined in his eyes when he discovered something new. You wondered if he had ever experienced such simple things before, things you took for granted - watching sitcoms at 2am, the pain of eating a little too much ice cream, the unadulterated joy of laughing over a bowl of cereal after a long night of sex. You’d watch his eyes sparkle at every new experience, and there was a part of you who really, _really_ wanted to meet his father so you could punch him for ever depriving Seonghwa of a normal life. 

Even so, there were moments when he struggled to open up. There was something still so dark about him, mysterious, hidden. Even after experiencing his wide-eyed, almost childlike sense of wonder, you detected something still slightly sinister kindling within him -- something you would expect out of a mafia boss’ son. He kept a tight seal on the resentment inside, but you knew it was festering just under the surface. You had tried to get him to talk about it, but he evaded your questions each time. You wondered when he would finally boil over. 

**********************

A knock sounded at your door. Seonghwa, for your date. 

You opened the door with a sweet, expectant smile. “Seonghwa! Just in time, I was making-” The expression on his face caused you to pause. He looked frighteningly serious, more than he usually did, and that was saying something. You furrowed your brows. “What’s wrong?”

“We have to go right now. I can explain in the car. Get a bag together, only what you absolutely need.”

“Seonghwa what-”

His voice went completely dark, commanding as he spoke. “You’re in danger. We have to go. _Now._ ” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shits about to get real


	3. lion and the lamb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth comes to light as things take a turn for the worse. Seonghwa’s family secrets are darker than you imagined, and you find yourself caught in the crossfire. How can things ever return to normal?

_ _

_ Panic.  _

That’s what you felt as you gathered a small bag of your things. You felt like you were packing up your things to evacuate for some sort of natural disaster. It all happened so fast, throwing some clothes and your most prized possessions in a bag and flying.

It wasn’t long before you were in the passenger seat of his car. He peeled out of your driveway and onto the highway before you could even register the events of the past 10 minutes fully in your mind. Why was he so urgent? Why were you in danger? Where were you going?

In your state, you could only choke out a few confused words. “Seonghwa, what the fuck?”

“I guess I promised I’d explain, didn’t I?” He had his eyes glued on the road, but you noticed him shift in his seat nervously. “There was a fight... with my father. He told me he found out about you. That I’d been seeing you.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me. But he threatened to have you… removed.”

Your heart sunk in your chest, nausea building in your stomach. “Removed? What the fuck does that mean?”

“Killed, probably. It usually does. It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve put out a hit on someone to protect the family’s interests. And it wouldn’t be the last.”

Your limbs felt like lead as you took it in, glued to your chair by what felt the weight of the entire world. You sat silently for a while, unable to process the breadth of the situation fully. You didn’t even feel like crying, you just felt truly speechless. You were snapped back to reality by his hand stroking your thigh, the other gripped tightly around the leather steering wheel. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he comforted. His soothing voice helped to calm your nerves as you watched the scenery fly by. “I’m gonna make sure it’s okay.” 

You didn’t talk for a while after that, not quite sure what to say. Your legs trembled slightly, but you managed to get your breathing under control. You made light conversation, or attempted to at least, but it felt contrived at best. Why were you so nervous to talk about anything serious? You were literally escaping from the fucking _ mafia _ , but the idea of talking about Seonghwa’s father felt too off limits.    
  
You gathered the courage to ask something that had been on your mind for a while. Seonghwa had talked very little about his position within the mafia, other than the fact that he was the boss’ son. Otherwise, you knew very little about its structure. 

“About, uh… your family. There’s something I’m confused about.”

“Hmm, what’s that?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow at your sudden curiosity.

“The guys who helped you rescue me—Wooyoung and Jongho—you called them your cohorts. Who are they? In—in the mafia I mean.”

Seonghwa sighed. It was something he always did before revealing information he knew shouldn’t be telling you. “Well, Jongho is like my cousin, in a way. Wooyoung, well, that’s more complicated.”

“I have time.”

“He’s kind of like my brother, but we aren’t related. Not by blood at least. I’ve known him since we were young. We were raised together.”

“We’ve been dating for a month and you didn’t tell me you had a brother? Jeez, Seonghwa,” you teased. 

“Ah,  _ dating, _ you say?” A smirk pulled up on his lips and he flashed you a playful glance. “I like that.” 

You wanted to ask him a bit more about his family, but you decided it was best not to push your luck any further than what he’d just been willing to divulge. You drove in a comfortable yet tense silence for a while longer, and you tried closing your eyes to maybe seize a few moments of sleep, but to no avail. 

“Seonghwa.”

“Hm?”

“Can we get some air? I’m feeling a little lightheaded.”

“That’s fine. I could afford to stretch my legs a bit.” 

You pulled off at the next lookout point. It was completely empty, like the rest of the highway had been since you’d been driving, and he pulled the car off in the furthest spot. 

The lookout was gorgeous, much like your company. You couldn’t see much of the intended scenery in the dark veil of the night, but you could see the stars glimmering in the sky, brighter than you’d ever seen. Seonghwa’s eyes sparkled in the starlight, and you watched him in awe as he took in the view. The circumstances may have been terrible, but you couldn’t imagine a more picturesque night. 

You hoisted yourself on the stone ledge of the lookout, legs straddling Seonghwa as he stood in front of you. He pulled you in closer until your waists flush were together, and you squeezed your legs tightly around him.

He stroked your hair for a bit, then moved a hand down, his fingers drawing along the sensitive skin of your neck. His touch on you felt exhilarating in the cool breeze of the night—something about the adrenaline of running away with this man had you melting like putty in his hands. 

“You’re too tempting,” he purred in your ear, running his other hand along the small of your waist. “We should be getting back on the road… but I have half a mind to take you right here.” 

Inspiration struck. You gave a few sensual kisses to his neck, breathing heavily against it as you spoke. “Your car.” 

“What about it?”

“Fuck me in your car, Seonghwa.” That came out more forward than you intended, but there was no point in mincing words right now. 

His breath caught in his throat. You watched as his expression turned from lustful to invigorated, a hot fire burning beneath his eyes. He scooped you up, your legs still cinched tightly around his waist for support. You threw your arms around his neck as he guided you back to the Bentley, tossing you gently in the backseat.

You didn’t necessarily have expensive tastes, but something about the luxury of his car was arousing in a way you couldn’t describe. The quilted leather seats felt cool against your skin, and you didn’t know much about cars, but you knew enough to know they were custom. The car smelled like fresh mahogany and leather, like the most incredible cologne you could imagine. How could he keep it so immaculate?

His lips slid against yours as he crawled on top of you. He barely fit in the tight confinement of the backseat, having to bend his knees slightly as he positioned himself over you. Your arm came up to his waistband, doing him the favor of removing his belt for him as you made out. The air in the car grew thick and balmy with the heat of your lustful breaths, fogging the already tinted windows slightly. 

He pushed his tongue into your mouth, his tongue dancing and sliding against each other hungrily. You palmed his dick through his pants, and he groaned needily against your mouth. His raging hard-on indicated he craved more. He followed your lead as you ungracefully unbuttoned his pants, sliding his underwear down, allowing yourself better access to his dick. You clumsily wrapped your hand around his shaft, pumping and twisting, drawing moans from his lips like music.   
  
He hoisted you by your waist up to a sitting position, settling you down on his lap. His hands explored under the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head suddenly, and you took the initiative to clumsily remove the rest of your clothes, giggling lightly at the difficulty of maneuvering in the confined space.   
  
“Your car might be more expensive than my house but that doesn’t make this any easier,” you grumbled, and you watched him as he smiled, unbuttoning his own shirt, still entranced by watching you undress. 

You settled back down in his lap, repositioning your hand around his shaft. You loved the way his dick fit perfectly in your hand, and you subtly teased him with your hand, rubbing circles on the tip, applying just enough pressure to the base to keep him wanting under your touch. He moaned against your lips, his needy grunts indicating you had him in the palm of your hand. 

He reciprocated by running one finger along your folds, testing your wetness. The sudden sensation caught you off guard, and you removed your hand from him for a moment to wrap your arms around his neck. He pumped a finger in and out slowly, drawing contented whines from your lips against his ear. How had he managed to turn the control of the situation back to his favor? 

His touches were just as deliberate—giving you just enough to be overwhelmed with pleasure, but not fully satisfied. You were practically dripping in his lap now, and the thought of his dick stretching you out was sounding more and more tempting. 

He pulled his fingers out suddenly, guiding your shoulders away from him for a moment to take the image of you in. Something familiar glimmered in his eyes--you recognized the same expression he had on earlier, when he marveled at the stars. His facial expression softened into wonder. 

"I'm so lucky," he mused softly, and it was almost as if he wasn't talking to you, but to himself, for a moment. "I know you're scared of what's going to happen next. But it's going to be okay." 

His words hit something deep inside of you, a part of your mind you had pushed far down. The part that was incredibly scared of the coming unknowns. 

He stroked your hair, his eyes still sparkling as he comforted you. His voice was calm and smooth as always. "No matter what happens I'm going to protect you. I promise." 

You kissed him gently, forgetting for a moment the explicitly sexual position you were in. Slowly but surely, you were falling for him. Well, more like tripping flat on your face down a flight of stairs for him. You had known that for a while, but your sudden dangerous circumstances had cemented it in your mind. He was yours, undeniably. 

You smiled against his lips. "I'll hold you to that promise." 

You felt his hands reposition under you, raising your hips and positioning you over his shaft. You sunk down slowly, and his nails sunk into you with a breathy moan as you pushed down fully. “You feel incredible,” he cooed softly. You moaned against the skin of his neck as his dick stretched you out slowly. The intimacy of the moment heightened every sensation by what felt like a power of a million.    
  
You rocked your hips slowly on top of him, and one of his hands came up to caress your breasts, the other supporting under your ass as you moved. Your pleasured moans harmonized with his, echoing against the interior of the Bentley. The car rocked slightly under you as you slid up and down over his hips slowly. He brought the hand on your breast down to where his cock connected with you, applying gentle pressure to your clit.    
  
The sensation was almost too much to handle. “Seong-  _ fuck, ah _ -” you whined breathlessly. You trembled under his touch, barely able to move your hips up and down with the way your legs were shaking. 

“I want you to feel good,” he breathed in your ear. His deep voice resonating in your ear sent you soaring, and your eyes rolled back as he rubbed harder against your clit, rutting his hips up against you. Your orgasm crashed through you, enveloping your mind in a thick, blissful fog. He held you tight as you shook, and you saw his lips curl up into a smile. “Good girl,” he praised, and you panted against him, still coming down from your high. “Tired?”

You were, you were exhausted. You came hard, harder than you could remember in a long time. But you wanted to give him the same pleasure he’d given you. You continued to rock up and down on his dick, mustering up every drop of energy you had to slam your hips down on him. He sang your praises with his desperate groans, and you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer like this. You latched your lips against his neck, marking him as you gave a few final thrusts. He bucked his hips up against you, and you rocked in motion with each other. 

You felt warm liquid spill over inside of you, Seonghwa grunting beautifully as he came, before pausing for a moment. “Shit, I didn’t mean to- inside-” he stuttered, his voice laced with a slight panic.

“Hwa, it’s fine. I’m on birth control,” you reassured, sliding yourself off on him. You realized that was the first time you’d called him by his nickname.

He paused, smiling a bit. “Right. I probably should have known that.”

You collapsed on top of him, still straddling his lap, arms wrapped around his shoulders, head nestled in his warm neck. Despite the circumstances, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so relaxed, so content, than while you were wrapped in his arms. Even in the balmy heat of the car, you felt refreshed leaning against his soft skin. It felt unbelievably intimate, the way you were pressed against each other, bodies nearly flush. He ran his fingers through your hair, combing through the knots slowly. 

“You’re probably gonna have to get this thing detailed,” you laughed, realizing you were dripping sweat—and all sorts of other liquids—all over his custom interior. 

“Worth it,” he grumbled, pulling you in tighter against him.    


You sat silently like that for a while, both working to catch your breath from the intense session. 

Seonghwa was the first to break the silence, his voice tender and calm. “That thing you said… about us _ dating _ .” He paused. “We are, right?”

You smiled against the skin of his neck as you nestled your head tighter into the crook of his neck. “Yes, I think we are.”

He pushed you away from him gently, so that you were eye-level with him. His eye contact was intense and serious, but loving. “Will you be my girlfriend?” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at his sudden cheesiness—you’d never been particularly good at embracing sincere moments. “Does this mean I can say my boyfriend is in the mafia?” 

He chuckled for a moment before his expression grew serious. “Not for much longer. If we can pull this off, I want to start a new life with you.

“Awfully fast, don’t you think?” you teased, planting a sweet kiss on his cheek. Then, more seriously, “I’d like that.”

You sat like that, embraced for a while .  You felt remarkably safe in his arms, despite everything you’d been through with him. Your track record with him was tainted with the threat of uncertainty, and yet it felt entirely right. You debated telling him just how much you were falling for him, but you decided to hold off for the moment. This was enough. 

You eventually slipped back into your clothes after nearly nodding off in his arms in the backseat. He carried you around to the front seat in a bridal hold, resting you lightly in the plush leather passenger seat. He retrieved a thin blanket from the trunk, draping it over you delicately. 

The last thing you remember was Seonghwa’s hand gently stroking your thigh as he drove, and the gentle hum of the car’s tires on the highway lulling you to sleep.

*******************

Your eyes fluttered open, taking a few moments to adjust to the low light of the night outside the window. It was dark, but you could make out the glimmer of water on the horizon to your right. 

The ocean? How long had you been driving for?

“Seonghwa,” you muttered drowsily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “Where are we going?”

“I have a private place. A beach house. We’ll be safe there for the night—my father doesn’t know about it.”

_ Jesus. A beach house? How many houses could one man have?  _ you thought, biting your tongue from saying anything out loud. _  
_ _  
_ You still sometimes forgot how rich he was, even while lying comfortably in the passenger seat of his Bentley. 

“We’re almost there,” he said, reaching over to rest his hand on your thigh comfortingly. 

You nodded sleepily, your consciousness fading in and out as he finished the drive. The car slowed significantly as he pulled off the highway onto a rougher private road. It was lined with a thick covering of trees on both sides, filtering out the faint glow of the moonlight. You dragged to a halt at the end of the road, met with the sight of a clearly expensive and yet surprisingly quaint beach house.    
  
You had your hand on the car door latch, about to press it open when Seonghwa suddenly grabbed your arm. 

“Wait.”

You paused, your stomach sinking as you saw his expression fall into something serious. You followed his gaze out the window, headlights piercing the front windshield the moment you looked up. 

Three cars circled you, tires skidding against the sandy pavement as they screeched to a halt. You looked at Seonghwa, frozen in fear as figures began to step out into the night. 

“Seonghwa—” You grabbed his arm, curling your fingers into the fabric of his sleeve as you watched the men grow closer. 

“Stay here,” he said sternly. “Don’t move.”

He stepped out of the car, slamming the door behind him. He took an apprehensive step forward, keeping close as he called out to them.

“What the fuck do you want?” His expression was tight, stoic as he scanned the crowd. There were five men that you could count, standing in a loose circle around Seonghwa’s Bentley. Panic crept into your system, and you clenched your fists against the seats. 

The car right in front of you swung its driver’s side door open, and a familiar blonde haired figure stepped out. 

“Wooyoung!” Seonghwa called, giving a relieved sigh as he laid eyes on his comrade. “Thank god it's you, I thought I’d been caught. Why did you—did something happen?” 

The expression on Seonghwa’s face was one of visible confusion. Wooyoung laughed, running a hand through his hair. He looked up at Seonghwa with eyes cold as ice. 

“You’re not going anywhere, Hwa. You really threw a wrench in things, you know. You think you can just run off with your little girlfriend so easily?”

Run off? Was he trying to run away from the mafia?

“I—I don’t understand—”

“Of course you don’t.” Wooyoung scoffed, bitter and resentful. 

“Did my dad put you up to this? Were you the one who told him I was—”

“Your  _ dad?  _ Hah, I’m not the one who told him you were leaving, Hwa.”

“Then, why…”

“Your  _ dad  _ is the reason I can’t let you leave. You have no idea the kind of hell he put me through. Not a fucking clue!” His voice trembled with an eerie, subdued rage.

“Look, I don’t know what my father did, but I hate him as much as you do. I have nothing to do with him!”

“You can’t possibly hate him like I do,” Wooyoung laughed humorlessly. “You’re his only son. You mean everything to him. He has everything he could possibly want. Money, power, respect… But you, you can’t be replaced.”

“What the hell are you saying, Wooyoung?”

“The agony of his only son slipping away, powerless to stop it. How it feels to have the only person you love ripped away from you, just like that… like my father was.”

“Your father? My father said he found you abandoned in a crack house, left to starve after your parents ran off!”

“Well, he fucking  _ lied, _ didn’t he?”

Seonghwa stood, stunned at Wooyoung’s words. 

“He lied. You wanna know what really happened? Your father put a bullet in  _ my father’s  _ head with his own two hands. He was murdered, Seonghwa. Not before being tortured, of course. I saw the whole thing. But your daddy doesn’t know that.”

“He… what? Wooyoung, I didn’t know—“ 

“Of course you didn’t!”

“If I had known earlier—“ 

“What would you have done, exactly? Kill him? No, see, I don’t want him dead. I want him to live his life out with his son’s blood on his hands.” 

“The blood would be on  _ your _ hands, not his!” 

“In a literal sense, yeah. But you know what they say. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. I’m just paying back what he’s owed.” 

“You’re like a brother to me, Woo. You know that. You always have been.” Seonghwa’s voice was softer that time. Sadder. 

“I’ve never  _ once  _ thought of you as a brother. I can’t even look at your fucking face. You’re the spitting image of him, right down to your fucking ego,” Wooyoung spat, closing the distance between them, giving Seonghwa a harsh shove to the chest. 

“You don’t mean that,” Seonghwa said, stumbling back. He clearly wasn’t looking for a fight. 

“I do mean it. And I can’t wait to see the look on his face when I bring him your fucking head!” He punctuated his words with a swing powered with rage and hatred. 

“Woo, please—I don’t want to fight you!” Seonghwa dodged his blows, refusing to swing back. 

“I wanna let off a little steam before I kill you. Come at me. Come on, hit me!” 

Wooyoung swung again, his lips curled up into a furious smile as he aimed at Seonghwa’s face again. The punch landed, almost as if Seonghwa let it. He staggered back, wiping a stream of red across his cheek as it dripped from his nose. 

“Man, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to do that.” Wooyoung sounded almost giddy with delight. 

“Please, Woo, that’s enough—“

“Hit me. Right now.”

“No.”

“No?” 

The smile faded from Wooyoung’s face. He made a nod to one of his guys, who flung the passenger door open and grabbed you by the hair. You screamed as he dragged you out of the car, kicking and thrashing against his hold to no avail. He halted, and you felt something cold against your temple. 

“Fight me, or the pretty girl dies.” 

You heard a frightening click next to your ear, and your blood turned to ice. You frantically looked over at Seonghwa, who met your gaze with a look of anguish you’d never seen on him before. 

“Stop—Wooyoung, please! Don’t drag her into this!”

Wooyoung clucked his tongue in sympathy. “Poor thing, having to take the fall with you. I’ll be nice, at least. I’ll give you two a nice double grave—”

Seonghwa cut him off with a right hook. Wooyoung stumbled back, clutching his chin with a satisfied smile. Seonghwa grabbed him by the jacket, dragging him in so their noses were practically touching.

“You lay one finger on her and that grave is  _ yours, _ ” he snarled. 

Seonghwa shoved him forward, giving himself enough room to cock his fist back for a punch. Wooyoung ducked out of the way, swooping in for a jab, landing it square against Seonghwa’s cheekbone, using the momentum from his dodge to power his blow. 

Seonghwa caught his balance and lunged, keeping his eyes locked to Wooyoung’s face as he threw his weight forward for another attack. Wooyoung was fast, light on his feet and easily stepped to the side, delivering another painful blow to Seonghwa’s face. 

You couldn’t bear to look, but also couldn’t bear to look away. You were afraid of what would happen if you closed your eyes, but you felt every punch that Seonghwa took as if you were the one fighting Wooyoung instead. Tears welled up in your eyes and spilled down your cheeks as you watched powerlessly from the sidelines. 

“Stop,” you croaked, your voice lodged in your throat. They couldn’t hear you, and even if they could, they wouldn’t stop for you. You had no part in this. You felt small, useless, and utterly, utterly powerless. 

“I take it back, you’re nothing like your father. You’re weak as hell, afraid to hit me with everything you’ve got. At least your father wasn’t afraid to pull the trigger,” Wooyoung taunted through his teeth. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Seonghwa snarled, launching a hit to Wooyoung’s nose so hard that blood nearly splattered all the way to your feet. 

Wooyoung dragged a hand across his mouth, wiping away the blood pouring down his lips from his nose. He smirked as he looked down at his hand, shaking off drops of crimson as he continued speaking. 

“I’ll be doing him a favor, really. You’re not fit to take over his throne. You’re a pussy, Hwa. Always have been, always will be.” 

“ _ Shut the fuck up! _ ” Seonghwa practically screamed at him. 

It was a side of him that was brand new to you, and you didn’t like it. Not one bit. You wished you were home with him, watching the smile on his face instead of the movie on the screen, hearing his laugh like a song. Not this Seonghwa, covered in blood, dripping sweat, eyes full of hate as he swung his fists. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take over for you. I’ll stay by his side, watching the look on his face as I tell him my version of the story. He won’t know it was me, and I’ll even say I tried to save you. After all, you’re my  _ brother, _ right?” 

Wooyoung laughed as he dodged Seonghwa’s blows, taunting him ruthlessly, wearing a crooked smile on his face like the devil’s own. 

“You’re not my brother. Not anymore,” Seonghwa spat, cold as ice. 

Wooyoung laughed, shrill and joyful. “That’s the spirit. Now we’re on the same page!” 

Wooyoung landed a fierce uppercut to Seonghwa’s jaw. He fell back, landing hard against the ground, reeling from the blow. Wooyoung’s foot lurched forward, smashing into Seonghwa’s ribs with all of his weight. Seonghwa wretched, coughing wetly as thick strings of red dripped from his lips. Wooyoung kicked him again as you screamed and begged for mercy. 

“Wooyoung please—stop! Please!” you sobbed, trembling and gasping for breath in between cries. 

“Don’t worry princess, I’ll make yours quick.” 

Wooyoung planted a foot against Seonghwa’s cheek, digging and twisting his heel against his face. 

“Can’t say the same for you,” Wooyoung said down to Seonghwa, who was barely clinging to consciousness. He groaned, glaring up at his former brother through heavy eyelids. Wooyoung delivered a final kick to his skull, and Seonghwa stopped moving. 

“No! No, god—no!” 

You screamed and thrashed against the man’s hold on you, forgetting about the hand wrenching your scalp, forgetting about the gun to your head. You screamed until your lungs ached as one of the guys peeled Seonghwa off the ground by his shirt collar. His body was limp, and you felt numb all over as you feared the worst. 

Wooyoung wiped his hands together as one of his guys shoved Seonghwa into the back seat of a car. You sobbed and wailed uncontrollably, digging your fingernails into the fist holding your hair, clawing desperately to get free. The man gave a painful shake to your head, commanding you to be quiet. 

Wooyoung knelt in front of you, and you froze, gasping for breath as you looked at him with wide eyes. His expression softened, and he brought a bloodied hand to your cheek, caressing it gently with his thumb. You were paralyzed, completely motionless under his touch. 

“I’m really sorry, love. It’s got nothing to do with you. I’ll make it quick, I promise. You don’t deserve to suffer,” he said sweetly, genuinely as he wiped your tears away. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead as he stood. “See you soon.” 

With that, he turned and hopped into his S Class, leaving a smear of blood against the door handle. Cruel hands dragged you toward another car, your screams piercing the night sky with no answer. You felt a cloth against your mouth, and everything went black. 

*********************

The next thing you remembered was waking up on the cold leather seats of the car that had taken you. It took a second for you to regain consciousness, but when you did, the events of the night hit you like a truck. The images flooded in, and it was like reliving it all over again. The dull ache in your chest grew quickly into unbearable anguish, the tears beginning to flow down your cheeks without much warning at all. 

You choked against the fabric gagging your mouth as you sobbed hopelessly. Your heart felt like it’d been ripped from your chest, a wide gaping hole replacing any semblance of hope you still clung to. Your cries echoed uselessly as you thrashed in the backseat of the car, muffled as you tried to scream. Your wrists stung against the zip ties cutting into them, and you quickly gave up trying to get free.

The man in the passenger seat groaned, throwing a menacing glance over his shoulder. “Can this bitch just shut up?”

“I wish Wooyoung would have just taken her out back there,” the driver grumbled. 

You knew there was no getting out of this alive. Your only hope, the only one who knew where you were, was dead. At least, you could only assume he was, or at least he would be soon. You couldn’t forget the sound Wooyoung’s fist had made against Seonghwa’s skin, delivering blow after blow, or the sound of his lifeless body being dragged away as you begged for mercy. The image haunted you relentlessly, every time you closed your eyes, every time you stopped to take a breath through your sobs, you saw him lying on the pavement, cold and bloodied.

You were completely helpless, being transported in some mafia car like a lamb to the slaughter. You’d die scared and alone, surrounded by strangers, with no one left to mourn you. You tried to picture Seonghwa’s face in your mind—the Seonghwa you wanted to remember, the Seonghwa who promised he would protect you no matter what, the Seonghwa who comforted you as you panicked. You tried to picture his soft, gentle smile, the feeling of his hand on your thigh reminding you it was going to be okay, but all you could see was his lifeless body, dripping blood and sweat onto the ground. 

That couldn’t be the way you remembered him. It couldn’t. 

Your hopeless screams turned to quiet, choked sobs as the reality sunk in. None of it mattered anymore—nothing you could do, no amount of thrashing or crying would set you free. Even the scenery flying by in blurred streaks through the window seemed irrelevant. In hours, maybe even minutes, you would cease to exist. If you were lucky, maybe Wooyoung would follow through on his promise of a double grave, but the thought brought you not even an ounce of solace. Your fate was sealed, exactly like Seonghwa’s. It was over.   
  
You closed your eyes tight, conjuring his image in your mind the best you could. Just as he had been on the first night you’d met him, he looked entirely unreal in your mind’s eye—too good to be true.  _ Too good to be true.  _ What a joke. You almost wanted to laugh. It  _ was  _ too good to be true, after all. You couldn’t laugh, though, not with this bitter emptiness consuming you like a lost speck of dust in the void. 

“What the hell—“ the driver suddenly shouted, pulling you back into the moment. 

A car drifted in front of you, hurtling closer as it spun its rear into your lane, on trajectory for a collision. The driver slammed on the breaks, and a wave of inertia threw your body forward. You bit your tongue as the car swerved, tasting iron as the wheels skidded and screeched against the highway. The driver cursed as he lost control, frantically turning the wheel as the car’s flank scraped against the guardrail. 

The windshield shattered, erupting into a spray of glass particles that coated the entire car. Gunshots rang out— _ gunshots?— _ and you fell against the seat for cover. Not that it really mattered if you died now or later, you thought morbidly. The driver’s window shattered next, a bullet just barely missing his face. 

“Fuck!” 

The man in the passenger seat pulled a gun from his jacket, stretching his arm past the driver to shoot. He pulled the trigger a few times, but the other car still had you flanked, sabotaging his aim as they forced the car against the rail. Your ears rang from the gunshots, and you squeezed your eyes shut, unable to buffer the sound with your hands. 

The driver jerked the wheel to the side, ramming the car with all his might, metal groaning and screeching in the collision. They pushed and shoved against one another like a high speed arm wrestling match, your body jostling painfully with each impact. There was a sickening jolt as the tires blew, and the car spun out, wheels screaming against the asphalt before finally crashing into the guardrail. 

Everything went still, and the passenger threw his seatbelt over his shoulder, flinging the door open with guns ablaze. He didn’t even fire off two shots before he went down, crumpling to the pavement as he took a bullet between the eyes. The driver aimed out the jagged remains of the windshield, screaming out strings of curse words as he furiously squeezed the trigger. 

Blood splashed across the interior of the car, soaking it in red as the driver went limp. You screamed as blood splattered across your face, the man’s shattered skull a haunting afterimage on the back of your eyelids. Your heart was pounding, body trembling as footsteps approached your side of the car, and the door flung open. You didn’t dare open your eyes as a hand hooked around your elbow, pulling you out of the car against his body with a careful touch. 

“You ok?” a voice asked. You didn’t recognize it, and you kept your eyes tightly shut. Your whole body shook as you hyperventilated, your lungs burning as you gasped desperately for air. 

“Shh, hey, it’s ok! It’s ok, I’m on your side,” the voice soothed, rubbing a hand along your back. “I’m gonna untie you, ok?” 

Your hands fell free as a knife cut through the zip ties holding them together, and he moved to undo the gag next. He gingerly untied the knot behind your head, pulling the wet fabric from your mouth. He brushed your hair out of your face, his tone soft as he spoke.

“There. Hey, can you look at me? I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You cracked your eyes open. His face was intimidating, with sharp eyes and an x-shape shaved into one eyebrow, complete with a diamond in the center. His deep blue hair was pushed back impeccably, and he wore a huge leopard fur coat. He looked like another scary mafia guy, and you’d had quite enough of those. Despite his looks, he seemed kind, his expression gentle and eyebrows pinched with concern he surveyed you for injury. 

“I’m Hongjoong, Seonghwa’s best friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof ouchie my heart


	4. house of cards

“I’m Hongjoong, Seonghwa’s best friend.”

“Wha- H-how’d you find me?” you croaked, your voice rough and thin from screaming for what must have been hours. “How-how’d you know where-”   
  
“Check your pocket,” he said, shooting a knowing glance down at your legs. You fumbled in both pockets, your right hand catching on something small and distinctly metal. You pulled it out hesitantly. “It’s a GPS tracker.”

“But when did he-” You paused, answering your own question in your head. Now that you thought about it, he had plenty of opportunities to slip something in your pocket during the drive.   


A small smirk painted his lips. “He told me you were leaving together, and gave me access to the trackers’ locations. He planted one on you, and he has the other somewhere on him. He said I was the only one he trusted in case things went awry.”

A shockwave ricocheted through your brain, and you keeled forward a bit, bringing your hand up to your head, doing whatever you could to dull the pain. You rubbed your temple, acutely aware of the ringing in your ears and the headache you had, presumably from all the crying—or maybe the gunshots that nearly deafened you earlier.    
  
Your legs still felt distinctly wobbly, causing you to stumble forward a bit into Hongjoong, who still had an arm poised on your arm to stable you. “Whoa there. C’mon, let’s get you in the car.” He said, concern furrowing between his eyebrows. He gestured towards his black Hellcat. Couldn’t any of these mafia guys just have a Honda or something? “I can’t have you passing out on me. Seonghwa entrusted me with keeping you safe.”

“Wait. That GPS tracker… does it tell you if he’s alive?” you asked, desperation a little too apparent in your voice. Your legs still felt weak and unstable beneath you, and you felt yourself swaying slightly on your heels.

“It doesn’t.”

You winced as another shock of pain shot through your skull. You felt like your legs were a moment away from giving out under you if you didn’t sit down right then. Hongjoong must have noticed the pained expression on your face, because he pulled your arm around his shoulder to stabilize you just as you stumbled into him again. 

Even with the pain coursing through your skull and your body giving out underneath you, you could only think of Seonghwa—that he must be clinging to life somewhere out there. For the sake of your sanity, you had to believe he was waiting for you. You couldn’t afford to lose any more hope than you already had—just minutes ago you had been ready to face your execution. 

Hongjoong guided you to the car, practically dragging you across the pavement as your legs betrayed you. A second figure came into your line of sight, emerging from a shadow behind the car, and you flinched in alarm.

Your first thought was to panic, but Hongjoong’s calm demeanor told you this guy wasn’t an enemy. He opened the back door for Hongjoong to let you in, standing stoically off to the side. He looked more like a marble statue than an actual person. Aside from his blank, serious expression, his features were sculpted perfectly, like he was a Donatello stolen from a museum. Why did all of Seonghwa’s friends look like models?

“This is Yeosang, a good friend of mine. He’s, uh… how should I put it. I don’t wanna say he’s a  _ hitman, _ but…”

“I prefer ‘freelancer’ personally,” Yeosang said dryly, almost like it was supposed to be a joke, but his face remained expressionless. 

“He’s a champ with a rifle. I’m thinking he’ll be our ace card for saving Seonghwa. If there’s anyone you want on your team, it’s him, so don’t worry, yeah?” 

He stepped aside to let you in, and Hongjoong carefully helped you into the seat, giving you a reassuring smile. Yeosang climbed into the driver’s seat, turning the key in the ignition to bring the car to life. You could see the wreckage of the other car in the mirror as you pulled away, tire marks and blood on the dark asphalt. 

***********************

As you embarked on the road, you felt anxiety tighten in your chest. You had to believe that Seonghwa was still alive, but the idea that he might not be couldn’t help but flood in from the darkest part of your mind. You shook the thoughts away, opting instead to make small talk with your rescuers.

“So... you’re part of Seonghwa’s family?”   
  
“No, no,  _ definitely _ not,” Hongjoong chuckled lightly with a shake of his head. “Our families are, well, you could say ‘allied’. I’ve known him since we were little. We don’t talk often anymore, but when he needs something, he comes to me first.”

“Yeah, I can see why. No one in his so-called ‘family’ seems to be trustworthy in the slightest,” you grumbled through your teeth. 

You rolled your eyes at the sudden thought of Wooyoung, who Seonghwa had called a brother. The anger rose in your chest again, and you shoved it down the best that you could. You balled your fists, digging your fingernails into your palms, barely even noticing the sting. You wanted to smash Wooyoung’s head in for what he’d done to Seonghwa, but that probably wasn’t the best game plan, as he definitely had no qualms about killing you instantly.

You talked for a bit longer as Yeosang drove, and it wasn’t long before you reached Seonghwa’s GPS destination. The car skidded though a halt outside a row of fences, making up the perimeter around what looked like an old warehouse. You noticed Wooyoung’s car outside the entrance, along with the other mafia car beside it.

“We’re gonna have to walk from here. If we’re gonna have the element of surprise, we need to stay on the down low.”

Hongjoong shot you a glance from the passenger seat. “Y/N, you’ll stay he-”

“No. I’m coming,” you interrupted. It wasn’t up for argument. 

“Look, I promised Seonghwa I’d protect you…”

“I’m  _ coming _ ,” you repeated. You were not backing down, even for a second. You’d been through hell at that point, so you were dead set on it.

Yeosang sighed. “Just let her come. We don’t have time to argue. If Seonghwa’s still alive... it might not be for long.”

“Thank you.”

You exited the car carefully, not even closing the car door behind you in case you could be heard. The silence of the night was deafening, with only the wind blowing faintly to provide you any sort of sound cover. 

As Yeosang gathered his gear from the trunk, Hongjoong debriefed you on the plan. It was simple enough—you and him would take the front entrance, taking out the guards as quietly as possible, while Yeosang would take the back. If Seonghwa was still alive, you just needed to distract Wooyoung for long enough for Yeosang to disarm him. That was the plan, at least. You had no idea what to expect when you went inside. 

You crept along the fence, following Hongjoong’s hand gestures as you stayed low, using the cloak of the night to stay hidden. You stepped lightly after him, and your heart sped up the moment you laid eyes on a guard standing watch, the hefty gun in his hands sending a clear message he wasn’t playing around. Hongjoong motioned for you to wait, so you froze, watching as he snuck around stacks of rotting wooden pallets for cover. 

He disappeared out of your line of sight for a few moments, then reappeared behind the guard with a knife against his throat, and you squeezed your eyes shut, waiting to hear the sound of a body dropping to the floor before opening them again.

You cracked your eyes open, and Hongjoong waved you through, trying not to look as you avoided the bloody corpse on the ground.

“Shit,” Hongjoong whispered, scanning around with a stern, focused gaze. You swallowed nervously, following his eyes with yours. “There must be two on the other side then. We’ll just have to trust Yeosang to take them both out.” 

You ducked under the half-open shutter door, following close as Hongjoong led you through the darkness. You could hear your own heartbeat like a drum in your skull, flooding your ears with the sound of your own anxiety. Your hands felt clammy and your stomach twisted as you prayed for the best but feared the worst. 

You heard him before you saw him. An agonized scream ripped from his chest, and you felt it all the way down to your bones.  _ Seonghwa.  _ As you ran deeper into the warehouse, you saw him there, arms twisted behind a metal chair and bound with rope, dripping blood onto the dirty floor beneath his feet. 

Wooyoung stood over him, gun in hand, turning to greet you as you flew in. He aimed the gun at Seonghwa’s head, giving you a cold smile, a cigarette dangling between his lips. 

“Hey, princess. Come to watch the show?” 

Wooyoung lashed out, striking Seonghwa across the face with the back of his gun. Seonghwa grunted weakly, spitting blood onto the floor, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. 

“Wooyoung, please stop! Please!” you begged, and you felt Hongjoong’s arm in front of you, holding you back. You fell to your knees as he struck again, the sound of steel hitting bone echoing against the empty walls of the warehouse. 

“Hongjoong? Is that you?” Wooyoung waved at him cheerfully. “Man, it’s been too long!” 

“Put the gun down, Wooyoung. You don’t wanna turn this into a fight.” 

“Speak for yourself. Why don’t you toss your gun over here? I’d hate for my finger to slip.” Wooyoung disengaged the safety of the gun with a threatening click. 

“Fine.” 

Hongjoong slowly placed his gun on the ground, keeping his hands raised as he kicked it over to Wooyoung. It skidded across the concrete, spinning in circles uselessly as Wooyoung trapped it beneath his foot. 

“Perfect,” he said, lightly kicking it to the side. He took a long drag of his cigarette, the tip glowing a brilliant orange in the dim light as he inhaled. He blew a thick gray cloud right into Seonghwa’s face, twirling a switchblade between his fingers with his other hand. 

The blade stopped spinning, and he dragged it across Seonghwa’s cheek, spilling fresh ribbons over his skin. It dripped down his chin, down his jaw, his neck, bleeding into the collar of his shirt. His shirt had been ripped open, his lacerated chest on display like a gruesome tic-tac-toe board, its white cotton soaked with shades of red.

“Now that I have an audience, I can  _ really  _ put on a show.” 

“N-no, please!” you whimpered helplessly as the blade slid across his cheek, drawing a scream from Seonghwa’s lips. “Please, please stop! I’m begging you!”

“Aw, hear that? How cute,” Wooyoung said as he finished the cut, bringing the knife up to his lips to taste Seonghwa’s blood. You felt angry and sick all at once, your stomach churning as you watched the scene unfold. “I wish I didn’t have to kill her. I’d love to have a go with her myself, you know? Hey princess, wanna have some fun? It’s your last night alive, right? I’ll be real good to you, promise.”

“Fuck you!” you spat. You weren’t sure if he was serious or just trying to fuck with you, but you were disgusted regardless. “I’d rather die.”

“Well, that can be easily arranged. Just thought I’d ask, no need to be so feisty.” 

Wooyoung turned back to Seonghwa. He held his knife in a way that left two fingers free to pull the cigarette from his lips. He flicked the ash, then smashed the butt of it into Seonghwa’s chest just below his collarbone. Seonghwa let out a pained groan through his teeth, his voice hoarse from screaming. Wooyoung twisted it a few times until it was out, then tossed it aside, leaving an angry red mark against Seonghwa’s skin. 

“You know, my father was in a gang. He was a real good guy, though. I still remember him clear as day, even though I was so young. He taught me how to play darts.” He gently trailed the knife along Seonghwa’s skin, caressing with the blade as he spoke. “That’s my strongest memory of him. He got me a dart board for my fifth birthday. I still have that old thing, to this day.” 

Wooyoung walked in a slow circle around him, his gun loosely aimed at Seonghwa’s head. You could see the rise and fall of Seonghwa’s chest with every labored breath, like he was on a thin precipice of consciousness. 

“We played darts every day. I’d wait all day for him to come home, staring at the door until it finally opened, then he’d pick me up and swing me around. Then we’d play darts. There was one time I swear I almost had him beat, but he was good. He really knew what he was doing.” 

Wooyoung gave a sudden slice to Seonghwa’s chest, splattering blood across the floor in a messy line. Seonghwa screamed, throwing his head back in agony. His neck was drenched in sweat, dripping down his skin and mixing with the streams of blood that oozed from his face. You cried out, weeping and sobbing as Wooyoung continued to speak. 

“One day, I thought I heard my father coming home, but something wasn’t quite right. I heard people yelling outside, so I got scared and hid in the coat closet. A bunch of people came into the house, and I saw my dad sitting on the couch, his hands and feet all tied up. You know what they did to him?” 

Wooyoung stopped, halting in front of Seonghwa, his teeth clenched in a pained smile. “They  _ cut  _ him—“ slice. “ _ Burned  _ him—“ slice. “Carved him all up, like a piece of meat.” Slice, slice, slice. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, screaming in horror as the knife found its mark over and over, Seonghwa’s screams of pain mingling with yours in a brutal, sickening harmony. 

“They didn’t even stop, not after he begged and pleaded, told them he had a little boy. He was worried about me, even while being carved up like that. He still wanted to make sure I was ok.” Slice, slice. 

“Then, someone else walked up. He told them to stop, and I thought it would be over. I thought they were gonna let him go. But instead…” Slice. “He held up a gun, stuck it right against his head, and pulled the trigger. You know who it was?” 

Wooyoung paused, like he was waiting for an answer, but Seonghwa didn’t give one. “That’s right. Your fucking daddy.” A deeper, harsher slice. The scream that tore out of Seonghwa’s throat made your whole body go cold, numb, but still you felt every cut on his skin. 

“And, you know?” Wooyoung laughed, painfully, like it hurt to remember. “Right before your dad pulled the trigger, my dad turned, and looked right at me. He saw me in the closet, just watching. Sometimes I think I imagined it. I could have, I’m not really sure. It was so long ago.” Slice, slice. Another scream. 

“Then… Bang.” Slice. “His head exploded. Just like that. I remember thinking it looked like a cherry slushy. I guess at the time I didn’t have much else to compare it to.” Wooyoung shrugged, then paused, like he was waiting for his audience to laugh. 

“Your daddy still doesn’t know I saw him. He thinks my first memory of him is riding home in the car, eating McDonald’s while I cried. He was so nice, too. Sometimes I think, if I hadn’t seen it, I’d think of him as my real dad, you know? God, I wish I could.” 

Slice, scream, slice. The floor was covered in blood. 

“The only thing that keeps me sane is knowing that, after all this is done, he’ll get to feel that same pain, you know? He’ll wake up, brush his teeth, and his son will be dead. He’ll go to bed at night, lie awake, staring at the ceiling, and his son will be dead. Just like that.” 

Slice. Hongjoong held you tightly, his warm body around yours, but you felt nothing. Like a nightmare you couldn’t escape, or a movie playing endlessly on repeat in front of your eyes. 

“That’s the only way I’ll ever really be at peace. Killing him wouldn’t be enough. It wouldn’t even scratch the surface. Not even a little—tiny—bit.” Slice, slice, slice. 

Wooyoung raised the gun up to Seonghwa’s head, gently moving his hair out of his eyes with its tip. “It’s really nothing personal, Hwa. I really think we could have been brothers. You were just born in the wrong family.” 

He placed the gun against Seonghwa’s temple, smiling gently, sadly as his finger came around to rest on the trigger. 

“No! No, please, god! Please, please, please!” you sobbed violently, thrashing against Hongjoong’s hold. “Please! I’ll do anything, anything! Wooyoung, please—stop!” 

“You too, princess. It’s nothing personal. You just happened to date the wrong man. You don’t need to worry, though. I have nothing against you. I don’t want to make you suffer.” He looked over at you, giving you a sympathetic glance. 

Seonghwa raised his head, just enough to meet your eyes. He blinked a few times to focus, his lashes fluttering as they opened. You could barely see through your tears, but you could see his warm gaze, like he was telling you not to worry, not to fear, and goodbye all at once.

“No, no! No, please—“

“Bye-bye, Hwa.” 

Wooyoung’s finger squeezed against the trigger, and the screams that ripped from your throat didn’t even sound like your own. As if you were a ghost, watching from afar, like your body didn’t belong to you. You were helpless, useless, like a piece of dust against a violent wind. 

You couldn’t watch. You couldn’t have this be your last memory of him. You squeezed your eyes shut, the image of Seonghwa’s smile painting the back of your eyelids, his kind eyes, his gentle touch against your skin. His laugh when he was happy, like a naive child experiencing life for the first time. 

A scream of agony ripped from Wooyoung’s throat, and your eyes shot open. He clutched his hand, doubled over as he cried out in pain. Blood spilled down his arm like a waterfall, and his gun scraped across the floor, wrenched from his grasp. Hongjoong lunged forward, grabbing it with a hefty sigh of relief. 

“That dick. What took him so long?” 

“What—what the fuck did you do?” Wooyoung spat through his teeth staggering toward Hongjoong with a look of pure rage. Blood poured from the wound in his hand, soaking the floor in red. 

Then came another gunshot, and Wooyoung sank to his knees, fresh screams of agony echoing against the walls of the warehouse. Hongjoong approached him with his arm outstretched, forcing him to look down the barrel of his own gun. 

Wooyoung cursed, spitting profanities as he tried to pull himself up, smearing blood across the concrete as it poured from his wounds. He panted, torn between clutching his hand or his leg as both bled profusely. He glared up at Hongjoong, who silently held him at gunpoint. 

Hongjoong looked back to you, making a gesture with his head toward Seonghwa. You immediately scrambled to your feet, running to him on trembling legs, feet carrying you as fast as they possibly could. You crouched in front of him, taking his face between your hands, cupping gently as you tried to coax him into opening his eyes. 

“Seonghwa! Seonghwa, hey! Look at me!”

He met your eyes weakly, his head barely able to support its own weight. His eyes were heavily lidded, almost unable to keep them open as he struggled to stay afloat. “Hey, hey, Seonghwa, it’s okay,” you comforted, voice soft and low. You wiped his jet black hair away from his eyes, plastered to his forehead with sweat. “Keep your eyes open for me, okay? We’re gonna get you out of here.” 

You had tried to keep together yourself for him, but tears spilled over with no indication of ceasing. You had to be strong to keep his focus on you. You were no doctor, but you knew enough from movies that someone who’d lost so much blood was not supposed to close their eyes. 

You reached around him to disentangle his restraints, much less skillfully than you had watched him do for you before, keeping eye contact with him the best you could. “You’re gonna be okay,” you reassured, though you weren’t entirely certain of it yourself. “Talk to me, please Hwa.”

“I—I really thought you were dead,” he croaked, his voice thin and husky. “Because of me— I thought you were going to die because of me, I’m so sorry, I—”

His hands fell free as you managed to finally break through the knots. You brought him in for an embrace, squeezing tightly at first before remembering that you needed to be gentle. You couldn’t help yourself, it was like he’d been brought back to life before your eyes. You thought he was dead—you thought  _ you _ were dead—but here you were, holding him in your arms, feeling his very much  _ alive _ heartbeat against your chest. 

“Seonghwa, stop. Don’t be sorry, please…” You pulled back to make eye contact with him one more, bringing your hand up to his cheek, rubbing away what you could of the sweat and blood from his skin. “I love you. And I’m just glad you’re alive.”

He was probably too out of it to grasp your love confession fully, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care if it was too early for you to admit it either. With all the uncertainty you’d been through up to now, there was really only one thing you knew for certain: you loved him. 

“You guys are sweet and all, but we should really get going,” Yeosang’s voice rang from across the warehouse, and you heard the distinct sound of him clambering down the ladder from his perched position near the rafters. “We don’t know how many more of his men might come when they realize he hasn’t checked in.”

Yeosang’s voice had snapped you back to reality. You suddenly became aware of Wooyoung’s pained cries as he held onto his bleeding leg. Hongjoong still had the gun poised against his skull, though he was incapacitated enough at this point that you weren’t worried about him trying to fight back. You had zero sympathy for him after what he’d done to Seonghwa. Hongjoong could have shot him right there and you wouldn’t have felt a damn thing but relief. 

“Yeosang, jesus, next time maybe don’t cut it so close,” Hongjoong scolded through his teeth. 

“Look, it’s not my fault I ended up having to take out  _ two  _ armed guards instead of one,” he snapped back, slinging his rifle over his shoulder.

Yeosang hurried to your side, helping you hoist Seonghwa up from the cold metal chair. He stumbled into your arms, and you both used all your weight to keep him upright. 

You managed a few clumsy steps with him slung over your shoulders before Hongjoong’s voice sounded in your ears. “Hey, guys, uh… what am I supposed to do with him?” he asked from across the warehouse, the barrel of his gun still poised at Wooyoung offensively. 

Seonghwa planted his heels suddenly, causing you and Yeosang to stop in your tracks. His body trembled weakly under him as he turned his head to shoot a final glance over his shoulder at Wooyoung, who was still clutching his leg on the floor.    
  
“Leave him,” he spat, the spite dripping from his tongue as he struggled to choke out the words. “I’m not like him. I wouldn’t kill my own brother.”

Hongjoong delivered a swift kick to Wooyoung’s stomach, and he groaned in agony, keeling over into the fetal position. “I wouldn’t have been so generous. If you’re lucky your goons will find you before you bleed to death,” he hissed through his teeth, holstering his gun in the waist of his pants, then jogged over to join you by the main entrance.

As you helped Seonghwa into the car, the sky washed over with the faint glow of the moonlight, you couldn’t help but notice the glimmer of tears reflecting in his eyes.    
  


***********************

You drove for a while, doing everything you could to keep Seonghwa conscious and talking. He was mostly incoherent, but you kept him speaking about anything you could, arm wrapped tightly around him. Every so often the car would jostle him a bit and he would grit his teeth, hissing at the sting of his wounds. You wanted so badly to take his pain away, but the best you could do was try to comfort him, however little that might have been.

Your attention was pulled away from him as the car finally pulled into a run down parking lot, dimly lit by a neon “Speedy’s Pizza” sign flickering overhead.

“What, are we getting pizza first?” you joked. 

“This is the place,” Hongjoong said, completely straight-faced, but there was no way he could be serious, right? 

“Your doctor works in a  _ pizza shop?” _

“It’s a rough economy,” Yeosang responded, and you also couldn’t tell if he was joking.

“I  _ really  _ don’t like this,” you grumbled under your breath, still supporting your arm around Seonghwas waist. He was a bit more conscious now, able to sit upright in the car on his own, but you felt incredibly protective of him, like if you let go even for a second he might not make it. 

“Trust me. He’s one of the best doctors I know,” Hongjoong reassured, shooting a glance over his shoulder from the passenger seat. He gave Seonghwa a glance up and down. “He’s gonna need it.” 

You exited the car cautiously, feeling a bit uneasy about dragging a bloodied man through the lot of an otherwise normal pizza parlor. You and Yeosang supported Seonghwa’s weight from either side, his arms draped around your shoulders for stability, as you helped him shuffle his way across the gravelly lot. 

Hongjoong directed you towards a back entrance, which opened into a staircase leading down to the basement. It was dark and dusty and sketchy as hell, not the kind of place you’d expect to take someone barely clinging to consciousness and actively oozing blood. There were spiders above your head, and you didn’t even want to risk touching the rail for fear of contracting hepatitis or something. Was that even possible? You clumsily led Seonghwa down the stairs, watching your step in the dim light as you descended. 

You reached the landing at the bottom, a single fluorescent bulb flickering in a nauseating strobe above you. A decrepit metal door was your only option, complete with a bullet hole off to one side and paint missing from almost every inch of it. Wonderful. Was this guy some kind of mad scientist from a straight to video horror flick? 

The door creaked open ominously as Hongjoong pressed against the handle, and you followed him through. There was a short hallway with doors on either side, and one open door at the very end. Hongjoong called down the hallway as they approached, knocking his fist loudly against the wall to announce their entrance. 

“San! Sannie! Yo, you home?” 

“What? Who is it?” A voice called back, sounding annoyed. “It’s four in the goddamn morning!” 

“It’s Hongjoong, you ass!” 

“Hongjoong!” 

The voice turned cheerful, and a man came running out of the room with a beer in his hand and fuzzy slippers on his feet. He looked younger than you, with soft, happy features and a bright smile.  _ He  _ was the doctor? 

“What the hell are you—oh shit! Hwa, you good?” His smile turned into a look of surprise the moment he laid eyes on Seonghwa. 

“What the fuck do you think?” Seonghwa grumbled. 

“What happened, man?” San took a swig of his beer. “You look like hell.”

“Can you just shut up and help him?” Yeosang deadpanned. 

“Here,” San handed you his beer, which you took without question. “Finish that for me.” 

“Uh, thanks…”

San took over your position underneath Seonghwa, carrying him into the room at the end of the hall. You followed after them, looking around in awe at the room filled with gadgets and tubes and trays of sharp things. 

Shelves were littered with all different colors of vials and liquids, and things that did not look like they should go together. Bags of fluid that hung from IV stands, empty syringes all over the place, pills loosely scattered around the floor, a giant smear all over one wall. Was that… blood? 

There was an old recliner right in the middle of the room, a TV playing cartoons, an end table full of empty beer bottles, movie posters on the walls, mini fridge, and a dart board, which you shuddered at. In the very back corner was a hospital bed, which they carefully laid Seonghwa on. You were no nurse, but this place didn’t exactly scream  _ up to code _ . You were afraid to touch anything.

“Yeesh, you’re bleeding everywhere!” 

“My bad,” Seonghwa gritted through his teeth sarcastically. 

“So what happened?”

“Wooyoung.” 

“What? How so?”

“He tried to kill me.”

“Well, I can see that…” 

“It’s a long story. Can we save it for when I’m, you know, whole again?” Seonghwa winced in pain, delivering a sharp hiss through his teeth.

“Right, right. Hey uh, you. What’s your name?” He glanced over at you.

“Me? I’m Y/N.” 

“Hey, nice to meet ya. I’m San. Can you push that tray over here?”

He gestured to a tray full of sharp things. You hoped to god they were sanitized. You rolled it over to him, hearing a crinkle as it ran over a discarded candy wrapper. He put gloves on, which you were thankful for.

“Ok, Yeosang, hand me that bottle of iodine by your head. No, not that one. On the shelf. The shelf!”

Yeosang practically threw the bottle at him once he found the right one, huffing angrily. San caught it, setting it to the side for later as he rustled through his tray of instruments. 

“Ok, now…. Hongjoong.” 

“Yeah?”

“Go upstairs and get me a pizza. Large, thin crust, extra olives. No mushrooms.”

“What?”

“What? I’m hungry. It’s 4am. There’s cash in that box of granola bars over there.”

“Um, I don’t see any.”

“Under the granola bars. Underneath.”

“What? I—nevermind, found it.”

Hongjoong pulled a couple twenties out from the box, then looked over at you with a nod. 

“You want anything, Y/N?”

Pizza? Seriously? Well, come to think of it, you had skipped your dinner plans in favor of flying out the door with Seonghwa in a panic. Then you were kidnapped, rescued, then you saved Seonghwa from being murdered, so you were a little hungry, actually. Not that you truly felt comfortable eating in this sketchy excuse for an operating room, but your options were pretty slim. 

“Sure, yeah. Pizza sounds good.” 

Hongjoong dragged a begrudging Yeosang out the door with him, and you were left with just Seonghwa and San. San gestured to a rolling stool off in the corner. 

“Wanna be my assistant for a while?” he asked, and you nodded and pushed the stool over to the side of the bed. He was filling a syringe from an unlabeled vial, which made you a little nervous. 

“What’s that?” you asked skeptically. 

“Morphine. Closest thing I have to anesthesia.”

“Wonderful,” Seonghwa groaned. 

You took his hand, giving it a squeeze as he rolled his eyes. He broke into a small smile when your eyes met, crinkling into crescent shapes that shined even underneath all the blood caked to his face. You gently stroked the back of his hand with your thumb as San finished threading his IV. 

“Any last words?”

“You make it sound like you’re gonna kill me.” 

“Hah, maybe.” He saw the concerned look on your face and quickly backtracked. “What? I was kidding. I’m gonna give him this to knock him out before I start the sutures.” 

“Nah, just go for it.” Seonghwa said, letting his head fall back against the pillow. 

“Alright, sleep tight.” San said as he pushed the morphine through the IV, the liquid running up through the tube into Seonghwa’s arm. 

His eyes drifted shut a few moments later, the dose large enough to fully sedate him. You were glad he could rest for a while, able to escape the pain at least temporarily. San pulled back Seonghwa’s open shirt a little more to see what he was working with. 

“Yikes.” He quickly glanced at his watch. “Looks like I’m not getting much sleep tonight.”

He sighed as he picked up a squeeze bottle of liquid, dousing it over Seonghwa’s many wounds. The sheets on the bed were toast, quickly becoming drenched with red as the liquid ran off the sides of his torso, rinsing the excess blood to give the doctor a clearer field of view. He hummed cheerily as he picked out which cut to tend to first, dabbing at one with a ball of cotton before picking up a curved needle and a pair of forceps. 

You watched in gruesome fascination as he got to work, stitching the edges of the wound together with a careful, precise touch. He definitely seemed to be about your age, if not a little younger, which was awfully young for an MD. He hummed and smiled as he sewed, like he was working on an arts and crafts project rather than a human being. Despite his wacky personality, he was pretty cute. Seriously cute, actually. You thought hot young doctors only existed in the realm of Grey’s Anatomy. Well… if this guy really counted as a doctor, anyway. 

“So…” you started awkwardly, wanting to find some way to fill the silence. “You, uh, you’ve known these guys for quite a while, huh?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve only met Seonghwa a handful of times, but me and Hongjoong go way back. He helped me pay for med school in exchange for patching up his buddies.”

Med school. Oh, thank god. 

“Ah, that’s nice of him. Are you still in school, or…?” You didn’t want to offend him or anything, but there’s no way he could have graduated already. He was like,  _ maybe  _ twenty five, max. 

“Nah, not anymore. No point, really. Doing it under the table pays way more. Well, that, and I have a few things on my record, so I wouldn’t really be able to get my licence anyway. I have a warrant out for my arrest, technically, so this job is perfect! Way more fun, too. More gunshot wounds. Stabs, burns, you know. Fun stuff.” 

You didn’t really know what he meant by having a record, but you really didn’t want to know. Especially while he was in the middle of stitching your boyfriend up with a sharp object. While wearing fuzzy slippers. Under a pizza shop. Could this night get any wilder?

He gave you a bright, dimpled smile. “What? You don’t trust me? I’ll have you know I got straight A’s before I dropped out.” 

Was that supposed to make you feel better? “That’s… that’s great.” 

Hongjoong and Yeosang came back a while later, the smell of pizza permeating the basement with its delicious, cheesy aroma. San had you feed him bites of pizza while he worked, as that was your task as his assistant, apparently. You did your very best not to drip grease into Seonghwa’s open wounds. 

It took San so long to stitch up the mess of lacerations that you eventually just rested your head on the side of the bed, nodding off to the sound of humming and the occasional metallic rustling of the instrument tray. You weren’t sure how long you slept for, as you couldn’t really gauge the time from the windowless basement. You felt movement eventually, which jostled you enough to rouse you awake, cracking your eyes open to the sight of a loopy, drug dazed Seonghwa. 

“Hey, Frankenstein,” you teased sleepily. San was gone, replaced by a pile of bloody cotton where he’d been sitting. You weren’t sure where the others had gone off to, but you appreciated a little alone time. 

Seonghwa smiled a bit and looked up at you with the same sad, sparkly eyes you had missed, except this time they weren’t necessarily drunken, just a bit doped up from San’s sketchy shot of morphine. He took your hand in his, making intense and serious eye contact. "I realized I never said thank you… for saving me."

You chuckled dismissively. You were never particularly great at accepting sincerity. "That was mostly Hongjoong and Yeosang. I forced them to drag me along. Really, Hwa, you shouldn't be thanking me."

"I didn’t mean for saving me in the warehouse."

You cocked your head to the side, furrowing your brows. "Then for what?"

"For  _ saving _ me. The night we met.”

“I think you still have a bit of morphine left in your system,” you laughed, brushing his hair from his eyes. “That was you, Hwa. You’re the one who did the saving. You punched my boyfriend out that night, remember? Then you took pity on me and let me stay at your penthouse… and uh, some other stuff.”

“I mean, that’s true. I did take pity on you. You were just too cute to resist that night, even through your tears,” he mused drowsily, his eyes trained on your face, glimmering as the memories seemed to flash in his eyes. “You know, I was watching you that night. Even before that piece of shit made a scene. I noticed you, as soon as you walked in. I don’t admit this very often, but I had a little bit of a crush on you.”

You giggled at his cheesy admission, like a schoolboy confessing his love. “A _ crush _ on me?” 

Heat rose to his cheeks, staining them an incriminating bright red. “I don’t know how to explain it. It’s my job to watch the bar, but that night… I only found myself watching you.”

“That sounds a little creepy, Hwa,” you teased with a smile, giving his hand a squeeze. “But while we’re confessing things… I thought you were the most handsome guy I’d ever seen. Like some sort of walking statue.”

“I hope you still think that,” he quipped, flashing one of his intoxicating, albeit drowsy, smiles.

“Even more so now. If that’s possible.” 

His eyes were lidded heavily, still a bit out of it from his earlier dose of morphine, but he looked at you with complete and utter sincerity. “That night, you saved me. I didn’t realize at the time, but meeting you—it helped me see the bigger picture in my life. It made me realize I didn’t want any part of the mafia anymore. You helped me feel like a human again.” He squeezed your hand tightly, his long fingers pressed tightly against your knuckles. “Those months we were apart, I couldn’t get you out of my mind. I drank and I tried to forget you, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t. The amount of times I fought myself from showing up at your doorstep… well, there were too many to count.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but you were interrupted by the chaotic clambering of San bursting through the door. He accidentally kicked one of his instrument trays on the way in, cursing loudly as he stubbed his toe, scalpels and things flying onto the floor in a hazardous rain. 

“Goddammit, I swear to—Hey! You made it!” He beamed up at Seonghwa from the floor where he was picking up all of his scattered tools, which hopefully he planned on sanitizing. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Seonghwa grumbled, echoing your own thoughts. 

“Things were lookin’ pretty dicey for a while there. And the dose I gave you was pretty big, so I’m glad you woke u—I mean, I’m just glad to see you’re feeling better, that’s all.” 

This San guy was a real piece of work. Regardless, you were thankful to him. 

“Thanks, Dr. San. For everything,” you said warmly.

He stood up from the floor, shoving his instruments back onto the tray with a giggle. “Ooh, she called me doctor. I feel so professional.” 

“Where is everyone?”

“They went out to get some air and make a few calls. Service down here is ass. Shit, speak of the devil.” 

Right on cue, the old door outside creaked open, Hongjoong and Yeosang entering a few moments later. Yeosang rolled his head, his neck cracking audibly as he gave an exhausted sigh. 

“Can I sleep yet? I need at least nine hours a day for maximum accuracy.”

“Is that what it says in the sniper’s handbook?” Hongjoong asked sarcastically, looking just as worn down. 

“It is, actually—Oh, he’s awake!” 

“Buddy! You alive?” Hongjoong suddenly brightened up, pushing the mound of bloody cotton off the stool by the bed so he could sit on it. 

“Pretty sure.” Seonghwa looked at his best friend, giving him a dopey smile. Hongjoong’s relief was palpable. Given how much blood Seonghwa had lost, things could have gone much worse. 

"So, Hwa, you have a plan for how you're gonna get out of here? The country, I mean. I wanna let you rest and all, but we’re kinda low on time. If Wooyoung is still alive, then there’s a chance he could find you here. There aren’t very many back-alley doctors to choose from, you know."

"I  _ did  _ have a plan. But after everything, I don't think I can trust any of my old contacts anymore." 

Hongjoong paused, bringing a hand up to his chin in contemplation. "I suppose I can set you up with my documents guy for passports, Yunho. He's backed up on requests right now, but I'll see if I can't get something pushed through for you," he said with a cheeky wink. "Anything for my best friend."

Seonghwa smiled. "Thanks. That'd be great."

"In the meantime, I know a guy who can cover your tracks. His name is Mingi, he'll make sure you can keep hidden until Yunho gets you your new identities. You can trust them, I promise. Cross my heart, yeah?" 

***********************

  
  


“Please?”

“No!”

“But I’m horny.”

“You’re injured.”

“Yeah, and horny.”

You gave an exasperated sigh. You’d had a rough week of hopping from hotel to hotel every night, covering your tracks while your fake documents were in the works. You couldn’t leave the country quite yet, and there were eyes everywhere, so you had to be extremely discreet and down low with your every move. 

Seonghwa laid on the bed, giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes he could muster. You glared back, but the puppy eyes were brutal, and you could feel your willpower chipping away by the second. He was shirtless from just having showered, and his chest was an art project of lines and sutures like a voodoo doll. A really handsome voodoo doll. 

“We can’t exactly go to a hospital if your stitches rip.”

“You can be on top. I’ll just lay here. You’re not gonna rip them, they’re closed already, I promise.”

“Oh, now I have to do all the work?” you teased.

“I was tortured. You should feel bad for me.”

“Oh, you poor, poor thing,” you said, giving a devilish smirk as you straddled him on the bed. 

You leaned forward, careful not to lay on him as you pressed your lips to his. You kissed him sweetly, like he was a fragile, delicate ice sculpture, but he wasn’t having any of it. He licked into your mouth, threading his hands through your hair and pulling you as close as he could without disturbing his wounds. He was obviously pent up from not having sex all week, and he raised his hips up to grind against your leg. 

You pulled back, shimmying down his body until you were hovering over his crotch. You ran your hand over the fabric of his underwear, feeling the bulge underneath, and he bit his lip in anticipation. You realize how much you’d missed this side of him, the one that wanted you so badly like this. You couldn’t wait until things were back to normal, when he’d be able to fuck you without abandon and have you clawing at the sheets like before. Well, as close to normal as things could ever be again. 

He lifted his hips up, allowing you to slide his underwear off. His dick sprang free, and you wrapped your hand around it, pumping the shaft in your fist. Seonghwa groaned, letting his head fall back against the pillow. You missed seeing that face on him, the one where he bites his lip and closes his eyes and does a little frown. He’d been through a lot lately, and you wanted to show him a good time. Gently, of course. 

You leaned down, wrapping your lips around the tip, swirling with your tongue as you sucked gently. He sighed as you took him deeper into your mouth, letting your tongue press along the underside of the shaft, squeezing the base in your fist. You weren’t in the mood to tease him, not after it had been so long since you’d last gotten to do this. 

You took him in as far as you could, letting his cock hit the back of your throat, eating up his moans as they spilled from his lips. You pulled off, then sank back down, finding a slow rhythm as you bobbed your head. You began jerking his cock as you sucked, hollowing your cheeks as you gently twisted your hand in the way you knew he loved. You hadn’t known him all that long in the grand scheme of things, but you certainly knew how to please him. 

His breathy sighs turned into audible moans as you sucked faster, harder, saliva dripping from your lips, allowing your hand to slide over the shaft with ease. He stroked your hair as you worked, not pulling or shoving, just petting. You looked up at him, and beneath the lust in his eyes was something else, something softer, like you were something important beyond words. 

You pulled back, smiling as you clumsily wiped a string of saliva from your lips. You were only in a shirt and panties, but you discarded them quickly as you climbed over him. You knew he didn’t want you treating him like glass, but you were gentle as you straddled his hips, lowering yourself onto his cock. He groaned openly as you sank down onto him, his cock sliding into you like a puzzle piece. 

You rolled your hips forward, rocking over him in slow waves, keeping your eyes locked on his. Seonghwa’s hands slid up to your waist, holding you as you rode him, encouraging you with his touch. He stroked circles into your skin with his thumbs, and you shuddered, a sensual tingle running down your spine.

It was a different kind of gentleness, not just because he was injured, but it was almost as though you were the one made of glass. Something irreplaceable, something he’d hold on tight to and never let go. Like he didn’t want to let go of you for a single moment for fear of losing you again. And honestly, you felt the same. Like you never wanted to let him go. 

Seonghwa’s lips parted as his breaths turned to pants, a sheen of sweat barely gleaming along the surface of his neck. His hands gripped you tighter, and you rocked your hips forward with more intensity. You started grinding in slow circles, gradually becoming faster as his moans grew more desperate. 

You rode him to his climax, your eyes glued to each other’s as he tipped over the edge, moaning your name like it was something sacred. You leaned down to kiss him carefully, feeling the heat of his skin and the rise of his chest beneath your own. You laid like that for a while, not wanting to move, but you had to eventually. You slid off and laid next to him, and you snuggled as close to his chest as you could without pressing against his wounds. 

He turned and kissed your cheek, and you gave a soft laugh, feeling like time had stopped for a while. Even though your lives had been flipped upside down and you were living on the run like fugitives, you felt strangely content, and you could have laid like that forever, just listening to the sound of his breath and his heartbeat in his chest. 

“I like you on top. It reminds me of the first time we met,” he smiled drowsily at your side, turning his head to meet your eyes, still breathing heavily. He still couldn’t turn on his side completely thanks to the lacerations painting his chest and arms. 

“I could never forget,” you mused. You remembered how good it felt that night to please him. How completely entranced you were with him—in fact, you still were. Even though you’d been plastered at the time, it lived in your memory like it had happened just yesterday. 

He brushed your hair from your face, wincing slightly as his cuts dragged across the hotel sheets. He tried so hard to stay strong, even through the pain. You loved that about him, but you wished he’d just let you take care of him for a while. “It won’t be much longer until we’re out of the country.” He glanced down at his chest and arms. “I should be able to take these stitches out in another week, and Hongjoong got his contact Yunho to push our documents through to the front of his list.” 

“You know, I don’t really mind hotel-hopping as long as it’s with you,” you hummed softly, punctuating your words with a gentle kiss. He pressed his lips against yours in return, lingering there a bit longer than usual, almost like a thank you. 

“Have you thought any more about where you want to go?” Seonghwa asked.

“Hmm… maybe Italy? France? I’ve always wanted to see the Eiffel Tower.”

“We can go wherever you want. Just say the word.”

You laid there for a while with him, lacing your fingers in his, the image of his sweet smile lulling you to the realm of sleep. 

It was certainly something you could get used to. 

  
  


***********************

He stood next to you, handing the security agent his passport. _Park_ _Seonghwa._ Except you could no longer use that name—from today on, it would be forever wiped from existence, as would yours. 

“Thank you, Mr. Choi.”

You handed her yours confidently, flashing her a smile. She smiled back at you, nodding as she motioned you forward onto the plane. “Thank you, Mrs. Choi.”

  
  


***********************

_ [epilogue] _

It was summer. The sun filtered through the big windows of your Athens apartment, bathing your skin in warmth as you laid next to him in bed. 

You’d been settled into your new lives for so long you could barely remember the old ones, but even so, some scars still remained. You traced your fingers along your husband’s chest, feeling every small, subtle rise of the scars painted across it, like a painful map of distant memories you couldn’t erase. Even so, the scars were the only reminder you had of your past lives. 

“You know, I’ve always wanted to go to Greece, since I was little,” you said, stroking his head softly. 

He brushed your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. His eyes sparkled like the stars as he took your image in. He was always sparkling now. “A fitting destination for my goddess,” he praised sweetly. 

You nuzzled your nose on his cheek, scrunching it against his skin. “I always thought you looked more like a god than a man anyways, you know that? Ever since I met you.”

You gazed out the window from your comfortable position on the bed, watching the ocean as it sparkled in the distance, lulling you nearly to sleep in his arms. 

“Hey,” he said from beside you, snapping your attention back to him instantly. His voice, smooth as ever, rang in your ears like a song. 

“Hm?” 

“I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! comments are appreciated as always <3 if you want to view or reblog my works on tumblr, my account name is the same there!


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